Sell My Body to the Night
by behindabruise
Summary: Bella grew up as a whore since the age of ten at a brothel, where she was treated as a real star. She had to obey just one rule: DON'T FALL IN LOVE! But when things suddenly get off course, can Bella stay true to the motto? All human, BxE, COMPLETE
1. Prologue: Pick Up

"Monsieur, any money for a starving girl? Mademoiselle, do you have any food for a famished child?"

It was a petite voice, one of a small girl. It was dainty and high-pitch. I turned around on the street again to look at the begging child.

She perked up when she saw me reach into my coat pocket. "You have food? Money?" she asked excitedly.

I tossed some coins into her opened palms. "So, how old are you, my child? What is your name?" I asked casually.

She was counting the money. "My name is Bella; I was ten-years-old last week."

"And what happened to your parents? Why are you on the streets, begging for your deserved nourishment?"

She pocketed the coins. "My parents died in a fire. I have no relatives, and the government won't help me; so, I am now forced to beg on the streets of Paris like a common peasant. I use to be like a princess." Her eyes flashed dangerously with recollection.

"Well, ma chérie, would you like to come visit my house? I could treat you just like a princess, and all the men who would want to visit you would treat you even better - like a queen! So, what do you say to that? Just a quick little visit, but you could stay if you'd like that."

She clicked her tongue. She was a sassy one.

"I suppose . . . but what do you mean, I'd be treated like a princess? And what men are you talking about? Would they give me very expensive things like jewels as well? I like jewels."

"Oh, yes, ma chérie, of course! The men would pay lots of money just to be in your presence! And once they'd paid all of the money, they would still give you pretty jewels. They might even make you feel very, very good."

"I like the sound of all of this."

"Very good! So, shall we adjourn to my house? I have many other girls living with me, and they would love to meet you, and be your friend! They can teach you all of the ways to get very expensive things from the men who visit you; we will all have such a grand time!"

"That all sounds very good."

"Oh, perfect, gosling! Well, let's get you home, I'll have you sign a little something, you can meet your new sisters, and they'll tell you all about your new princess life!"

"Wonderful."

So, I took the child's grungy hand, and we walked down the street to my bright, brand-new, flashy whorehouse.


	2. Performance

**Warning: You may want a French-English dictionary out if you don't speak French and want to understand the impromptu song I made up. It's fairly simple, but I've also tossed in a few French phrases and stuff too, so it's just a little warning so you aren't totally caught off guard.**

**I have never been to a cabaret or whorehouse, so I don't really know what it looks like or how it all works out, but I gave it my best shot and I hope its okay. **_**Moulin Rouge**_** helped a lot!**

**Don't forget to review because everyone loves reviews! Plus, I need critiquing, I need responsiveness!!**

"_Hello, my beautiful girls! This is a new member to our clan. You will teach her all she needs to know about the Black Snake, yes?" I declared to my whores who all sat around "backstage" as the new girl and I walked into my cathouse. Their show wasn't until six, and they insisted on resting beforehand._

"_Charlie, she's just a little kiddie!" Alice declared. Her squeaky voice was like falling nails to my ears._

"_Ah, Alice - I love the new outfit, where did you find it?" I looked her up-and-down. A black corset with lace running up it, with a tiny, gauzy skirt that hugged her petite waist with tight fishnets that wrapped around her thin legs. Her black hair was done up in a smooth bun, and her face looked as if it had been slapped with a makeup drawer. She looked perfect for the show tonight._

"_Jasper, the one who slept with me last night, gave me dis, some roses, and a bottle a champagne. I'm considerin' him cheap. But yo changin' the subject; a little girl can't join the Glass Swans! She's way too young!" That's what everyone called my infamous girls: the Glass Swans - because my last name was Swan at they were always bright and shiny in the right places._

"_Ever hear of child prostitution, ma chérie?" I raised my eyebrows. Alice scowled._

"_Alice is right, Charlie. Also, we have no room here for her!" Rosalie, my most beautiful cocotte, cried out. I knew she was really only worried about sharing her room with the silent child I was still gripping with my right hand._

_I waved her off. "Ah, Rosalie, I am going to make this child the star of the Black Snake!"_

_Rosalie gasped. "What?! I thought I,_ Rosalie_, was the star of the Black Snake! You can't kick me out!"_

"_Rosalie, my arrogant darling, you will simply be moving in with Alice and Esme, not kicked to the streets; what kind of pimp would I be if I did such a thing to you, gosling? Besides, this newborn star deserves a bit of room."_

"What?!_" Esme and Alice cried in unison._

"_Not another word, girls."_

"_But, Charlie, come _on_! Can't you just leave da child? She's only causin' more problems than fixin' any! We don't need 'nother prostitute in this overly stuffed whorehouse, okay?! Just leave her be! And how in the world can we train her for tonight's show anyways? Will she even be premierin' tonight?" Alice babbled on, dismayed._

"_Alice, my darling, silence. You are the most compassionate in the group after Esme, who has a very rich and powerful suitor coming for her tonight, so you are to teach the child everything she needs to know to be part of the Black Snake during the show tonight."_

"_Charlie! I'm _in_ da damn show!"_

"_Enough, before I beat you! You will do as I say, Alice, I own you! Now, take the child to Rosalie's room, and give her Rosalie's things. Rosalie will have to sleep on your floor until we can get another bed. Understood?"_

"My things -_" Rosalie began, but I slapped her cleanly across the face, and she was silent._

"_Yes, ma chérie, your things. We will get you new things, but the child keeps the old. She is going to be a magnificent, sensual, erotic star, I can feel it! We'll start her off with the basics as a child, and she will be primed for the best by eighteen. How wonderful this is all turning out."_

_The group of whores was silent. They stared, disbelieving, up at me. I narrowed my eyes, and yelled, "Make yourselves useful and do as I ask, lest I beat you harder than just a slap! Afterwards, you can rest up for the sure-to-be-erotic show tonight."_

_The girls scattered, and Alice took Bella upstairs._

And that was part of the story of how I came to be part of the Black Snake that Charlie loved to tell me as I grew up.

I told that story to myself every night before a show. And tonight was no different; when I heard Alice's end her song, the curtains would open up, and thousands of men were out there, just waiting for me.

I sat down on the trapeze. The coldness of wood sent shivers up my spine. I fluffed up my hair once more before Esme swatted my hand away. "You'll ruin it, Bella! I made it _perfect_ this time!"

I nodded; I had to be perfect. I analyzed my clothing one more time: sequined sapphire blue corset, fishnet tights, and black high heels, and my hair was done up in perfect curls. I was so suppose to look gaudy yet elegant, and I thought the outfit was just that; enough to make the boys hunger, but still covered up enough to know that it was highly unattainable.

I heard Alice's high-pitch voice come to a close on the last note, and I took a deep breath. It was my time to shine, my spotlight. I'd been one for the limelight since Charlie had picked me up when I was ten and I started out as a rare child whore. But now I was older and better at my job, and the spotlight was even more important nowadays.

"Ready, Bella?" Esme asked seriously. She was, in a sort, my mother because she had taken care of me since I arrived at the Black Snake. Alice had been my sister, Charlie my father, and Esme my mother.

"I'm ready," I replied steadily.

Esme began to lower the trapeze at an unfaltering pace. I gripped the tight string that ran up and attached itself to the crank. I crossed my legs daintily, and I heard the crowd below became silent. Dark blue confetti fell down before me, and the last note of Alice's number wavered in the air as I was lowered. I closed my eyes until I felt the trapeze come to a stop. I opened them.

On the bar of the trapeze, I sat, overlooking the whole club; the old-fashioned stage that Alice, Rosalie, Angela, and Reneé waited on the stage silently. Rosalie looked angered, as she always did when I entered - she use to be the star until she got older, and I was the replacement. Alice scowled, but she had always disapproved of me being a woman of pleasure - she thought of me as her little sister, and her little sister following her footsteps into prostitution made her furious at times. Angela and Reneé were usually the quiet ones, and were never interested in the spotlight; so, they stood by and watched me float down.

The room was completely silent. My soft, sweet voice slowly murmured the words: "_Soyez bienvenus au Serpent Noir_

_Maison des Cygnes de Verre_

_Voulez-vous coucher avec moi_?"

The whorehouse burst into a cabaret; the whole room seemed to explode with colors and voices. The crowd screamed as I did laps on the trapeze, dangling my arm just above the eager crowd temptingly. The live band blasted, and the four courtesans on stage started singing a soft harmony. I began my song as soon as I was lowered, and could step down onto the floor . . .

"_Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?_

_Mais seulement si vous pouvez me payer_

_Je suis une femme chère_

_Vous voulez une nuit de plaisir?_

_J'exige des bijoux et un argent_

_Ainsi si vous croyez que vous avez été faits pour m'aimer, le bébé_

_La seule façon de m'aimer, le bébé, est vous paient des jolis frais_

_Ainsi provoquez les prétendants, provoquez les hommes_

_Je suis prêt pendant une nuit d'amour et de diamants._"

I ran around the cabaret, singing my heart out. I reached the stage, where I began to sing the chorus. The crowd went wild for the performance, and, though they were resentful, my four whores behind me sang harmony . . .

"_Ainsi si vous espérez m'aimer,_

_Oui, si vous espérez m'aimer, le bébé_

_La seule voie est avec des jolis frais_

_Je veux des bijoux, je veux de l'or_

_Donnez-moi des diamants en abondance!_

_Je ne veux pas roses, je ne veux pas d'argent_

_J'exige le meilleur!_"

Swish, swish on your left foot. Turn, booty shake - the crowd went nuts. Hands, up the body, turn, shake the hips. Hands in the air, hands down tight at your side. Push the air, left. Push the air, right. Kick up, stomp down. Turn to the side; hands on your knees, bounce, booty shake. Spin, spin, spin, squat, jump up, turn, hands on the knees, turn head, blow a kiss. Now for the second stanza . . .

"_Ainsi si vous espérez m'aimer,_

_Je veux des diamants, je veux de l'or!_

_Donnez-moi tout dans votre portefeuille_

_Videz-le jusqu'à ce que rien ne se querelle_

_Et ensuite vous pouvez m'avoir_

_Je serai le vôtre jusqu'à l'aube_

_Alors je m'attends à un joli cadeau se séparant_

_Juste dire au revoir_

_Je m'attends à encore un baiser et à une autre apparence plus tard cette nuit_

_Ainsi si vous pouvez payer,_

_Vous pouvez m'avoir_

_Je vous avez des diamants sur vous,_

_Vous pouvez m'avoir_

_Mais je suis une femme chère, _

_même pour vous._"

I had the very last chorus of the song to go, but first I needed to change into my beautiful finale outfit. Ten other courtesans came up stage, and made a dressing room by lifting up their skirts around me, and dancing around, so I could not be seen. Alice, Rosalie, Angela, and Reneé entertained by singing the second stanza again, and doing an impromptu cancan dance. The crowd roared for more me.

Esme scuttled behind the extemporary dressing room with my finale outfit: a black, sequined top hat, a black and purple corset that looked rather elegant on me, and new purple stilettos. Esme reapplied my red lipstick, and then scampered offstage with my old clothing undetected. The other girls were almost done, so I got in a crouching position, so I could jump out of the spur-of-the-moment dressing room when they sang their last note.

Finally, Rosalie ended, the skirts came down, and I popped up, already saying a couple new verses and the chorus . . .

"_Nous allons perdre sont des charmes à la fin_

_Mais je resterai jeune aussi longtemps que vous pouvez me payer_

_Apportez donc un peu d'argent et portefeuilles_

_Apportez les diamants et l'or_

_Oubliez tout le roses et de l'argent_

_Donnez tout et plus!_

_Ainsi si vous espérez m'aimer,_

_Oui, si vous espérez m'aimer, le bébé_

_La seule voie est avec des jolis frais_

_Je veux des bijoux, je veux de l'or_

_Donnez-moi des diamants en abondance!_

_Je ne veux pas roses, je ne veux pas d'argent_

_J'exige le meilleur!_"

I raised my voice and arms at the very end, and kept staring upward, taking in all of the applause and screams. Money was thrown at me, and the bodyguards did everything they could do from keeping all types of people off of the stage. I turned to my audience, smiling, waving, and blowing kisses. I did booty shakes and bent down so the men could see my half-concealed breasts. If they'd been going nuts before, now they were going ballistic. I blushed, and blew more kisses to my loyal fans. My little backup dancers behind me rolled their eyes as they shook their hips and sang a soft concord.

Esme and Charlie came to get me, and led me off the stage by carrying me horizontally. I looked like an Egyptian princess being carried off by her slaves. I waved once more and blew as many kisses as I could. The other four girls stomped behind me.

"_C'était un spectacle spectaculaire, le chérubin!_" Charlie cried joyfully. "You were magnificent out there!"

"Yeah, talk about driving 'em boys crazy, Bella - you driven 'em mad with desire! You are a pro at dis," Alice remarked at her dressing room table, as she touched up on her heavy blush.

I blushed. "_Dites merci à chacun_! You know, Alice, you, Rosalie, Angela, and Reneé were great out there too," I said innocently.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Oh, you were the real star of the show. You win best prostitute of 1899 in Paris. Is a given, love."

"So, _ma petite étoile_, I have a wooer for you tonight!" Charlie announced with excitement. Everyone in the dressing room leaned in, and held a breath. Charlie rolled his eyes. "It's no one too important; the boy is seventeen, and his father is a wealthy man of high status. It's the boy's first time anywhere near a place like the Black Snake, so you must go easy on him. And you must be good as well, because his father is a powerful man. He visited Esme many a time when she was young, but never bought her; he never married though either. He lost his wife in a fire or something, and he only has his son, so treat him well! Do anything to please the boy tonight, all right, cherub?"

Everyone turned to face me, still holding their breath.

I laughed confidently. "What's the boy's name, Charlie? I've got to at least know his and his father's names."

"Ah, yes, his name is Edward Cullen, and his father is Carlisle Cullen. They expect you in your quarters promptly at ten. You have one hour to prepare. Now, Esme, let's go see if we can find him, and sell you, hm . . . ?"

Charlie and guided Esme out of the dressing room, and into the pulsing cabaret.

"So, a night with Edward Cullen, huh, Bella?" Rosalie asked casually. Her casualness was clearly overdone.

"Yeah, what of it, Rosalie? Don't be an arrogant thing, and start yellin'. The girl deserves to be where she is, and you was too old to keep bein' the star of this damned place."

Rosalie narrowed her eyes. "I won't forgive her for stealing my spotlight, if that's what you're implying."

"Yeah, that's what I'm implyin'. She was ten-years-old, she didn't know nothing, it was Charlie's fault! He brought her here off the street! If anyone, be angry with Charlie. Besides, I think Bella is a fine star here."

Rosalie slapped down her lipstick, and glared at Alice. "Fine, _cochon_, have it your way. At least I don't talk like _un crétin ignorant_."

As Rosalie stormed out of the dressing room, I ran over to comfort Alice; everyone knew she was particularly sensitive when it came down to her speech. Though Charlie had tried to give her speaking lessons, it was to no avail. Alice could never learn how to talk properly, but Charlie kept her anyway because she ended up being a great source for business.

"Alice, don't listen to Rosalie. She doesn't know anything! She's just _une prostituée arrogante_! You are so much better than her."

Alice sniffled. "Why shouldn't I listen to her, eh? She usually turns out right 'bout everythin'! Rosalie is right . . . I'm just a pretty face, and just barely one. I ain't smart or talented. I'm scarcely _beau_!"

"Alice! _Honte sur vous_! You are a beautiful and talented person; you know it! You were singing better than me out there! Don't you dare say you're barely even a pretty face, because you're one of the most beautiful people in here. Understood, _ma chérie_?"

Alice sniffled again, and let out a tight sob. I wiped at her tears hastily. "I have to get ready, no? And you have to find a suitor for tonight. Come on, let's go! Everything will be fine, don't listen to Rosalie, she doesn't know anything at all, understand me?"

She nodded. I helped her reapply her makeup, and picked out a truly sensual outfit for her. She went out into the cabaret dancing, but you could see that she wasn't that into it. Luckily, many suitors went up to her from what I could see backstage.

Well, now I had to get ready for a suitor, too. Esme came running back to help me get ready, and so it all began.


	3. Nighttime

**I strongly suggest finding a French-English dictionary. It will help a lot, especially with the whole song in Two . . . anyway, just get one online or something. And please, review, **_**mes chéris**_**!**

"Esme, you met the boy and his father, didn't you? What would you say is his type? _Tragique, heureux_, or just _sexuel_?" I asked as Esme pulled on the strings of my red cancan dress, to make it tighter.

"Well, the boy seemed rather nervous around women; Mr. Cullen said he was only taking the boy here so he could become acquainted with the opposite sex, and he wanted the very best so the boy would know how to handle women. But, because the boy was rather nervous, give him _tragique_," Esme replied methodically, pulling on the last string. "You've put on the new corset, right? The black one with attached fishnet tights? Carlisle wants the best!"

"Yes, yes, the very best! All of my suitors want the very best, and obviously I'm very good at it."

"Right, right then, the servants have put up the food and drink already. You have half an hour, just try to look sexual and beautiful while you get acquainted out there, all right?"

"All right."

I first had to meet Carlisle Cullen and his nervous son before the night could begin.

Esme guided me out into the cabaret; no one mauled me because by nine thirty, most everyone was drunk on Absinthe and liquor. As we navigated our way through the club, about half of the men were passed out in booths, or gulping down their last glass.

Over in the very last booth was a blonde, sharp man, who looked like he'd gotten a whiff of something terrible, who was sitting with Charlie and looked as if they were discussing something direly important at the moment. His posture was straight and held an air of regalness. Next to him, was a young boy of about seventeen, maybe eighteen. He was quite unbelievably handsome; I had to do a double take.

It was clear that he was tall, lean, and lanky. His bronze hair flared up like a fire, as it had many unintentional twists and tangles that made me blush. His eyes were a soft mint-green color, rimmed with a darker green. In the artificial light that hung above the booth, they seemed to dance and sparkle. His skin was unusually pale, nearly snow-white. His lips, however, stood out magnificently against the bone-white skin, for it was deep in ruby color that matched my lipstick. His long fingers restively drummed on the table as his eyes darted back and forth, never pausing even for a moment.

I then realized my mouth had fallen open, and we were nearing the table; so, I shut my mouth, regained my confident, sexy composure, and smiled seductively. Everyone at the table's eyes met mine.

"Ah, yes, dear Mr. Cullen, this is Bella, _notre étoile_," Charlie proclaimed proudly. His smile was arrogant.

"_Bonjour_, Mr. Cullen. It's a pleasure to meet you," I agreed in a seductively soft voice. I extended a hand for a shake.

He seemed momentarily stunned, but then retrieved his imperialness. "The pleasure is all mine, dear Bella," he greeted, kissing my hand lightly. I giggled, and smiled. The boy fidgeted. "Oh, I do apologize, this is my son, Edward Cullen, your eager suitor for the night."

Edward smiled uneasily, and kissed my hand with shaky lips as well. I kept up my confident demeanor. "_Tout le plaisir dans Edward mondial, le plus cher_," I greeted attractively. It means, "All the pleasure in the world, dearest Edward," which I say to all my suitors, switching out their own name for Edward's. Esme and Charlie exchanged a knowing glance, but I did not look their way and break Edward and I's eye contact. That was the key to seeming as a wonderfully beautiful and confident cocotte.

"No, believe me, all of it is mine," he replied. Though his voice was rather wobbly and clearly nervous, I still had to marvel at the velvety undertones and honey-like texture of it.

I giggled. "I'll meet you in my room in twenty minutes," I whispered sensually. I turned on my heel, Esme tailing behind me quickly, while saying: "Bye-bye, _ma chérie_."

Esme and I walked back slowly and sultrily, but when we ran the corner, we broke out into a speed-walk. Esme was wanting to run, but I commanded her to slow down.

"Esme, what's the hurry?" I hissed.

"That Carlisle, he just makes me . . ." she began, but cut herself off.

"What? Makes you what? Did he say anything to you? Do anything?" I pressed. There was nothing that excited me more than gossip.

"Uh, it's nothing, _ma chérie_ . . ." she trailed off.

"_Quitter ce moment_! Just tell me, Esme! I command you to tell me!" I pouted. Esme frowned.

"Mr. Cullen told me I was a fat, ugly prostitute. That's all he said to me. I don't know . . ."

"Esme! You can't put up with that! You're not even a whore anymore! He is clearly an unfit, rude man, and he doesn't deserve your time. Ignore him, _mère. _He'll eat his words one day. And you are not fat or ugly; you are as skinny as I, and even more beautiful."

"You've never called me your _mère_ before."

"Well, you're the only one I've got. Shouldn't I start calling you that then, _mère_?"

She smiled. "It warms my heart."

"You treat me as your child just the same."

She laughed. "I suppose you're right about that Mr. Cullen. He was a rotten man to me."

"He's no more than a scumbag. A lousy man, if you ask me."

Esme sighed as we returned to the dressing room. I was to wait in the dressing room until ten, which was in ten minutes. I stripped off my tight red dress, which left me with only my corset. I loved this corset, with its netlike texture and black elegance. It was my favorite costume.

When I was done reapplying to my subtle makeup - Charlie insisted on keeping it light - I headed up the stairs that led to the dormitories where all of the girls stayed.

All of the rooms were the same: large, opulent, luxurious bed in the center, a vanity, a large, gilded dresser, and red walls. The girl who stayed in the room had the option of decoration and her clothes and makeup though. Many of the girls chose lavish ornaments. Some hung leather and left panties lying on the floor or beneath the bed to create an air of sensuality that a whore's room needed. Some of the girls used flowers and other romantic thing to create the atmosphere of sultriness and so forth. The decorations and colors varied from girl to girl.

Rosalie's was first on the left, and had lace and frills and all sorts of flowers packed into the room. All of her things were gold and opulent. Alice's was across, and it wasn't nearly as girly as Rosalie's, though flowers were wilting in every corner and the occasional spot of black lace reared its head once in a while; Alice wasn't as much of a girly girl as she was a dark creature.

Reneé was next to Rosalie, and, because she was neither bold nor audacious, her room was fairly standard; she didn't have as many princely things, though Charlie protested against it. Angela's was right across the hall and very much the same; she was shy and preferred only to be loved for her body, not for the girly, luxurious things in her room. She was very lonely.

Esme's room was just beside it. It was gray and dark because no one visited her anymore; she was just a helper, although seven years ago, when I came here, she was one of the most desirable women in the club. I supposed she missed the days when men would beg for her.

Charlie's room was largest and across the hallway from Esme. He was truly a man of opulence, and though I'd only been in there once, I knew the room was beyond extravagant in its luxuriousness. Bright red and splotches of gold painted the walls, and golden furniture was laid neatly all around the room. The gilded bed took half the room.

Each door besides Charlie and I's had a large sign on the front that said "Glass Swan," as that was the infamous name for Charlie's girls. Everyone at the whorehouse was known far and wide, all over Paris and beyond, as the scandalous Glass Swans.

Charlie's door simply had nothing . . . but mine, oh, mine, had the most endearing term of all on it in extravagant gold and adorned script. A feeling of pride swept through me whenever I saw the sign that stared at me blankly at the very end of the wall. I had the second largest room besides Charlie's, and the sumptuous sign upon it said "_Le Diamant Étincelant,_" or in plain, old English, "The Sparkling Diamond."

I placed the black, matching, netlike vail that was attached to the headband that kept my hair in its perfect place over my face, breathed in, and pushed the door open lightly.

Edward's back was facing me as he looked out over the view I had of the Eiffel Tower and the Sein River. The Tower, built not ten years before, glittered beautifully under the silvery moonlight.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I asked softly as I closed the door. He jumped, surprised by my quiet entrance. He laughed nervously, and fingered his top hat with shaking fingers.

"Yes, it is. A wonderful view, mademoiselle," he replied. His voice quivered as much as the fingers the gripped the top hat.

"Oh, please," I said, waving it off, "call me Bella. It's a beautiful name, is it not, _mon cher _Edward?"

"Oh, yes, it quite is. It's truly almost as beautiful as the moonlight shading the Eiffel . . . Bella."

I giggled seductively. "Well, thank you. How about some champagne? To calm your nerves, Fidgety?"

His voice broke as he laughed. "Do you I seem so nervous to you?"

"Yes, you do."

"Well, you are dressed in only a . . . revealing corset and fishnet tights. And you are, truly, the most beautiful courtesan in all the world."

"Your fingers are shaking."

"I'd rather just get it over with."

I dropped the large bottle of champagne back into the tub of ice. It made a loud clang when it was down. I scowled privately to myself before turning back around with a wide, sultry smile on my face again. "Well, your wish is my command. Shall we then?"

I plopped down on the bed, and patted a space beside me. The bed was large, gold and red, and opulent, as was the rest of the room. The sheets were silky beneath my palm.

He awkwardly stumbled over, and sat at the edge of the bed. This was not working; he was not cooperating.

"Edward," I said through gritted teeth, a bit frustrated now, "lay down with me. We can't do what you came here to do if you will not lay down, understand, _mon cher Edward_?"

He lay down stiffly. "So brutally honest."

"Well, you needed to hear that."

"I don't want to sleep with you, Bella."

And those words stuck to me like Absinthe to a Bohemian. No one had ever even dreamed of denying a night with me, the Sparkling Diamond, the Queen of Sin, the Star of the Snake, the Only Woman of Real Pleasure - my many nicknames. No one had ever disagreed with my pleasure until then.

"And who dares to deny a queen her riches?"

"And who dares to force a king to execute himself?"

"Execute himself? Is a night with the woman who created the only kind of euphoria humans want a horrible thing?" Then something dawned on me. "You're religious, aren't you?"

"No, I -"

I cut him off by starting to make orgasmic noises. "Come now, Edward, give into the sin."

"Please, can I just -"

"Stop speaking and live a little bit."

I started undoing his belt and pants. I squeezed his member, and he was quickly quieted. "How does sin feel to you now?"

"I'd rather just -" But he was too lulled to make any difference.

I straddled him, and pushed, moving rhythmically against him. He moaned as well. I smiled, and moved harder.

"Come now, _get into it_!" I yelled, kissing his neck. But he stayed motionless, like a tool. I rolled my eyes, and pretended to climax. "Come on, come on, give me your best, Edward!"

His eyes shot open, and he darted out from under me. He was on the other side of the room, buckling his pants, in a flash.

I sighed, and covered my face with my hands. I groaned, disappointed, as dramatically as I could make it sound. This was the first time that I'd had a good enough wooer in almost a week.

"What's wrong?" he asked timidly.

"What's . . . ?" I was at a loss for words at first. "Edward Cullen, what do you _think_ is wrong? You won't make love with me, and you won't tell me why! What other reason would I be frustrated for?"

"I-I, uh, I'm, um, I'm sorry, mademoiselle Bella," he stammered, surprised. "I just . . . I don't want to do this, you know."

"What . . . why not?"

"My father is making me. He's a wretched man. He's forcing me to associate with women, when I don't want to."

"Well, why not?"

"I will when I want to, but when someone forces me to, I don't want to, so I won't. But the miserable man insisted . . ."

"A rebellious one, hm? Well, let's pretend for just a moment, shall we?" I suggested coyly.

"What are you talking about?" Edward looked at me as if I am completely deranged.

"Why, hello, young fellow. My name is Bella, how do you do?"

"What?"

"Well, your name can't be 'what,' now can it?"

Realization slowly sailed over his face. "Why, hello, mademoiselle. My name is Edward Cullen. Your name is _joli_."

"_Merci_! So, you must be my age . . . seventeen?"

"Yes, my birthday is the second of June."

"September thirteenth!"

He seemed at an exit now. "Well, uh . . . it was, um, nice meeting you, mademoiselle Bella . . . ?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" I cried, startling him slightly. "_Le plus cher_ Edward, please, join me at my abode for tea and perhaps some champagne! It's been so long since I've had a bit of company!"

"Oh, I really must be leaving . . . " I whipped out a dirty look at him. "Or, it would be my pleasure to join you."

"Oh, thank you!"

"Of course, mademoiselle."

"Stop being so formal, Edward! Just call me by my _joli nom_, Bella. I feel better at ease."

"Of course, Bella."

I giggled. He hooked my arm with his, and we walked around the room to the small table where the tub of ice sat that held the champagne. He poured two glasses, and handed me one. "To our new friendship," he toasted, and we both drank thirstily to it, laughing.

After four more glasses of the strong liquid each, the room began to spin. But a courtesan never becomes drunk, it's one of her acquired talents, so though Edward's speech was slurring, I had perfect diction. But what fun was in that anyway?

"Dear monsieur Cullen, my dear friend, the best a girl could have . . ." I half pretended to slur.

"Yes, my love?" he fully slurred.

"I have a sudden need for a rumpus, what about you?"

"A rumpus? Like a ruckus?"

"No, like commotion, you fool!"

"And how shall we make this commotion?"

"Let's make love."

I threw him on the bed, and jumped on top. He didn't protest this time, and I could swear he was only as drunk as I.

**Thank you, **_**Moulin Rouge**_**!**


	4. Betraying

**French-English dictionaries will be needed. REVIEW**

_Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-dum._

_Dieu_, my head hurt. Maybe I was drunker than I thought I'd been last night. I had no recollection of the sex or how we got that far. All I remembered was pounding down the champagne.

"_Bella? Ce qui dans l'enfer est arrivé . . . _?" Edward muttered groggily. Or in simpler terms . . . "Bella? What the hell?!" He was having a major hangover and hadn't a clue of what had gone on last night, like me. So I was stuck with no memory at all now.

"Edward . . . ?" I asked foggily. I squinted my eyes open, and they were burned by the sunlight that poured out the opened window across from the huge bed. The Eiffel Tower wasn't doing a good job of blocking it.

"Bella, what _happened_?"

"I don't . . . know. I can't remember a thing." I braced my eyes for the sun once more by rubbing them roughly.

"I can't remember anything at all. I've never been drunk before. It was so strange."

I looked over to him, my eyes adjusting. "You must be lying; you've never been drunk before?"

"_You_ must be lying; a courtesan never gets drunk."

"What? How do you know . . . ?"

"Oh, is it a secret? No matter, my father has had enough experience in this place to pick up on a few of them. He'd come here all through my childhood. He never married. My mother left us because she knew he kept coming here for the cancan dancer, Esme."

"Yes, Esme is like my mother. She told me about Carlisle. He was an evil man to her."

"I wouldn't be surprised if that were true. My father is not a very good man, you see. He never had been, always a man of sins and horrible judgement. It's a shame though, really."

"Oh?"

"He had all the money in the world, and he spent it on Esme and Absinthe. He allowed me to go to school and on occasion he'd buy a little supper, but I was usually left alone with our maid, who cooked her own food, while he was off parading around with the whores."

"Well, a brothel _is_ where the old and the rich enjoy the young and the beautiful,_ charmant_ Edward. You are the youngest customer I've ever had; and it's been a while since the youngest before you. He was thirty, and that was nearly a year ago, you see."

"All of your customers are old and crusty."

"I can't argue there."

We laughed.

Silence pierced the air, and that always drove me mad; I hated silence. Quietness had never really been my thing, being a showgirl and all. I lived for the loud, smokey air of the Black Snake, where people were whistling and yelling all the time. I lived for that. I lived for the noise of singing and people encoring me on. I wouldn't choose anything else over it.

So, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "Am I going to see you tomorrow, too?"

And why that had come to my mind, I had no clue. I usually didn't care if people came back unless they'd brought me money, jewels, or clothes, which Edward hadn't. So why should I care?

Another awkward silence. I felt like screaming, but instead hissed in his ear edgily: "Well?"

His mouth stumbled around a bit, but I soon came to the conclusion: "I don't know. Do you want me to come back? I haven't brought you anything, or have anything to offer. Why does it matter?"

It was my turn to stumble. But I did spit it out quicker than he had. "I was thinking the same thing . . . well, it doesn't matter to me, I guess, but you can come back whenever you like."

"Next time I come back, I'll remember the sex . . . hopefully."

I giggled. "Hey, you know what? You're not a virgin anymore, Edward. You are a man now."

"Huh . . . well, what do you know? Though I hardly remember a thing besides your champagne, I suppose you're right. That's . . . that's . . . wow. Well, Father can get off my back now."

I laughed tentatively.

"Maybe I will visit you, Bella. Even though you were supposed to sleep with me, I feel, uh, um . . . we're c-close."

I had a feeling that had accidentally slipped out. "Right. Come back anytime, but I won't be here to be your friend. Understand?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"Well, this has been sufficiently awkward. You should probably get dressed, your father will be waiting."

"Of course," he repeated.

He got out of the bed, and began collecting his articles of clothing that had been scattered around the room. I stayed under the sheets like a virgin would, but he paraded around the room, getting dressed here and there, collecting a sock or his belt, exhibiting his nudity. As a courtesan, I didn't find it disgusting, though I did have to cover my mouth daintily with my fingers to keep from laughing; it was a funny thing to see.

I walked down to the club with Edward. All of the passed out men who'd stayed the night were just leaving. The only respectable looking ones were Charlie and Mr. Cullen, who stood up front near the door, discussing something in hushed tones and serious faces.

Mr. Cullen's sharp eyes glanced to Edward and me, and it felt natural to look down, so I did. But Edward kept face and continued to walk at his steady pace. It must have been the practice.

Mr. Cullen allowed a small smile when seeing his son. He opened up his arms, and said: "My boy! You're a man now! When you're eighteen, you'll be ready to court a _real_ lady."

Edward looked back at me, and I turned bright red. It was embarrassing to have someone say you're not a real lady, just a whore, in front of your suitor, even though it may be true.

"Father," Edward muttered. Mr. Cullen was staring at me intently.

"Now, Son, I have some things for you at home . . ."

"Can I come back, Father?"

Charlie, who'd slowly slipped next to me, looked up, puzzled, as did I. His father, however, looked incredulously at Edward.

"Come back where? Home? Well, uh, that's where we're going this instant, Edward -"

"No, I mean . . . can I come back and visit Mademoiselle Bella." Edward flushed, and looked down at his feet."

Mr. Cullen laughed a mirthless laugh. "Dear boy, you need to start courting real women. All the women here, including Bella, are merely toys for the men when their girls grow cold. You can come back as long as you like when you are my age, but you first need to find yourself a real wife, and make a family. The Cullen legacy must go on -"

"I can court real women and still visit the brothel, can't I?" Edward was being so naive.

"_No_, you cannot. Find a wife, have a few boys, and then you can come back, hear me?"

"But, Father -"

"_Assez_! You'll do as I say! Now, let us return home. Maria, that idiot of a maid has done something useful: she made you a meal. So, let's not spoil the occasion, and leave. Afterward, maybe we can go to the park or Sein River, find you a girl for this evening."

Edward sighed sullenly, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, Father. _Au revoir_, Bella. _Au revoir_, Charlie. Apparently, I won't be seeing either of you very soon."

"Thank you, Carlisle, for your patronage at the Black Snake," Charlie exclaimed extravagantly, as always. "And of course, tonight we have a newly prepared show with our little star here, Mademoiselle Bella, if you'd like to come as our _invité d'honneur_! Just delighted, we'd be, isn't that right, cherub?" Charlie elbowed me.

"Oh, uh, yes, yes, we'd be honored! Your patronage has always been gratified, and your support of the new show tonight would be greatly appreciated as well. We'd just love to have you," I announced grandly. I was careful not to mention Edward, who threw me a dirty look from behind his father's shoulder. I didn't look at him.

"Very well, I'll see if I can make it tonight," Mr. Cullen concluded dryly. He didn't seem at all excited.

I squealed, and Charlie cried, "Oh, wonderful! We'll have a special booth set up for you! We can't wait for you to see it! It's a fantastically erotic show with as many girls as you can count on your fingers!"

"Splendid, I'll be here tonight then." And with that, he dragged himself and Edward out the front door.

Charlie turned to look at me, a guileful grin on his face. He had an evil gleam in his eye, and I knew something was up. I put my hands to my hips, raised my eyebrows, and said to him slyly, "What are you planning to do tonight? I can see it in your eyes; you're planning something, aren't you?"

"We should sell you to Mr. Cullen," he suggested deviously. He drummed his fingers together.

I gasped, and looked at him wildly. "_Je ne peux pas le faire_! I just slept with his son last night, Charlie! That doesn't seem all too fair to the poor boy, Edward, now does it?"

"Oh, cherub, you're forgetting two things; one, you are a courtesan, and as such, you shan't care about whom you are making love to. Second, I own you; you do as I say when I say it. Understood, love?"

I sighed, and crossed my arms. "Fine," I pouted.

"Oh, you're just a natural, darling!" I giggled. Charlie laughed too, but then became serious once more. "Well then, run along, practice for the show tonight. You've got much to improve on, including that high note at the end. And help Alice with her hip swing, it's weak."

Charlie walked off to his quarters. I walked off to the stage, where some girls were congregating in order to practice for the new number tonight. As soon as I took center stage, I forgot all about the Cullens.

Eight o'clock: showtime! The clock backstage toled eight times, and everyone squealed. All of the girls loved preforming a new show. Excitement was in the air, and new costumes were given.

I had the lead role, of course. But this time, instead of wafting down on the trapeze, I was coming up on stage from a trapdoor. Its theme was Hindi, and I was the Courtesan Princess that all the lowlier concubines bowed down to. But that was how it always was in the presentations.

Esme led me under the stage. The footsteps of the other girls were loud above me. Esme and I waited patiently until the curtain was lifted. The band in the balcony started playing the loud Hindi piece, and Alice began singing in French as all the girls did an elaborate dance. I'd seen them practice so many times, it was as if they were right in front of me, dancing. Alice was singing quite nicely tonight as well, and I could hear as if I were in the audience . . .

"_Soyez bienvenus à la maison de courtisanes!_

_Nous ne sommes pas des courtisanes de hindi trop modestes,_

_Ici vous amuser et vous plaire_

_Mais notre reine, la courtisane d'entre tous_

_Elle attend_

_Nous ne sommes pas des esclaves trop modestes à elle_

_Les esclaves modestes, modestes à la Reine de Courtisanes_

_Dénichez notre plaisir_

_Mais ne mesurez pas_

_le nôtre à la Reine!_"

I smiled to myself; I was the Hindi Queen of Courtesans they were singing about. The crowd just beyond the stage I was beneath was going crazy because they knew the song was about me, too.

"Ready, Bella?" Esme asked steadily. It was the same question each time; it never changed.

I nodded. I crouched just below the trapdoor. My erotic outfit was simply a purple sequined corset and dark pink puffy pants of silk. There was an elaborate headdress in my hair that made it look like I had wings of gold coming out of my head, and strings of beautiful silver beads hung in my eyes and on my forehead. My hair was long and tangled. It was somehow sensual and beautiful in an exotic kind of way.

Right as Esme was about to pull the rope that opened the door and Alice ended the last note, I snapped out of my somewhat trance, put a huge smile on my face, readied my voice for the long "ah" that was to follow, and popped out from under the stage.

The crows went berserk with surprise and desire. Men were whistling and pounding on the tables.

I began to walk downstage, my arms opened wide, before doing some sensual, foreign, elaborate dance moves and singing the new song that was in French, though it was a Hindi performance . . .

"_Je suis la reine de hindi de qui ils parlent_

_Celui dont le plaisir est non imaginable_

_Celui qui tient à vider votre portefeuille_

_Vous êtes les soumissionnaires_

_Je suis le prix_

_Vous avez de l'argent_

_J'ai la beauté_

_C'est votre emploi pour m'acheter_

_Mon emploi pour fournir_

_Mais la seule voie je peux fournir pour vous_

_Est si vous me donnez tout que je désire_

_Et la seule façon de m'aimer, le bébé_

_Est si vous payez mes jolis frais_."

I crossed my wrists and ankles, crouched down and spun on the stage, and did many other intricate moves that would could be seen being done by a foreigner. The new song had the same basic message as the first: "Buy me, I'll give you pleasure, I'm expensive and require lots of jewels and gold," et cetera, but the chorus was a bit different this time . . .

"_Les baisers sont grands,_

_Les baisers sont doux_

_Les poèmes sont réfléchis,_

_Les poèmes sont impressionnants_

_Les fleurs sont belles,_

_Les fleurs sont frangrantly_

_Mais l'or peut m'acheter les vêtements_

_Et les bijoux peuvent me faire étinceler_

_Le plaisir peut me faire se sentir mieux_

_Et ne me rendra pas si solitaire_

_Ainsi mettez-vous en rang au front,_

_Les portefeuilles dans la main,_

_Je suis prêt pour votre confort_

_La Reine de hindi, la Déesse de hindi_

_Est prêt pour vous._"

It made me out to be a lonely person, which, quite frankly, I wasn't, but I went along with the song anyway. It just got the crowded more excited. I smiled, and did a small dance number that consisted of kicking my legs in the air and tapping my ankles together several times, bending, tapping my wrists, and twisting my neck a few times. I had just a stanza and the very last chorus line until I was done with the song . . .

"_Ainsi si l'argent est dans votre portefeuille,_

_Et vous croyez que je suis agréable_

_Avance,_

_Et permettez-moi de vous enseigner comment le font le hindi la voie_

_Guérissez-moi de tristesse_

_Guérissez-moi de solitude_

_Seulement vous pouvez apporter à la Reine de sa période!_

_Et si vous êtes envoyés sur moi_

_Il y a mes courtisanes de domestique toujours, en attendant_

_Ainsi si vous avez le temps et l'argent_

_Et vous êtes dans l'humeur pour peu de bon, vieux plaisir_

_Je suis ici, j'attends_

_Je suis votre minou, je vous vendrai mon amour._"

I was beginning to feel tired. Oh well, it was just the very last chorus, and I could lay down for a bit, maybe get some sleep. I didn't think there was a suitor coming that night . . .

"_Les baisers sont grands,_

_Les baisers sont doux_

_Les poèmes sont réfléchis,_

_Les poèmes sont impressionnants_

_Les fleurs sont belles,_

_Les fleurs sont frangrantly_

_Mais l'or peut m'acheter les vêtements_

_Et les bijoux peuvent me faire étinceler_

_Le plaisir peut me faire se sentir mieux_

_Et ne me rendra pas si solitaire_

_Ainsi mettez-vous en rang au front,_

_Les portefeuilles dans la main,_

_Je suis prêt pour votre confort_

_La Reine de hindi, la Déesse de hindi_

_Est prêt pour vous._"

I stepped onto the trapdoor, and it lowered me down slowly. The other girls began to sing, but the crowd only wanted me. They howled and cheered for more, but I kept a straight face until I was under the stage completely, and the only one who could see me was Esme. I finally smiled, and squealed, running off after Esme. "Wait up!" I called between giddy pants.

When we were backstage again, Charlie was there waiting. As soon as I caught a glimpse of him, he was proclaiming, "_Le séraphin, le chéri, mon étoile de hindi!_ How was the new performance? Too foreign? Should we have stuck with just France? From what I heard back here, your singing was fabulous, and the crowd loved it! But what do you think?"

Charlie always asks me about new performances. If I say that I don't like them, we toss it and learn something new. If I say I liked it, we keep it running until I get tired of it. "Oh, Charlie, it was phenomenal! The dancing will take some getting use to, but I liked it, and the crowd did too," I analyzed the show. I was always very careful about this, for Charlie's sake. "I think we may want to add another stanza though. But that's what I think."

He grinned, and said, "You remember whose coming tonight, don't you, dearie?" I immediately snapped out of my tired manor. A courtesan is never sleepy. I gave him a serious look, and asked who it was. His expression was overdone disappointment. "Oh, duckie, you don't remember this morning, and the run-in with Mr. Cullen, the high and mighty?"

"Oh, oh, yes. Well, what about it?"

"He came tonight."

"Did he enjoy it?"

"He just adored it! He thought it was absolutely _fabuleux_! He thought you were so perfect, he's asking to spend the night with you! Isn't everything turning out so wonderful, lovey?"

I didn't know why, but all of a sudden, I felt lightheaded and guilty. This was Edward's father. I had slept with Edward just last night. He'd told me about his cruel father, and he'd be totally betrayed if I made love to his father this night. Edward despised his father, how could I turn on him?

"Charlie, is that really such a, uh, great idea?" I asked faintly. The room was spinning.

"Well, why _not_?"

"Because I just brought his son into manhood last night! I can't just turn on Edward like that. Edward hates his father."

"What have I told you countless times, darling?" Charlie's expression was a mask of seriousness that I couldn't break through. I suddenly felt guilty for another reason.

"Don't become attached to a customer."

"And why is that?"

"Because I sell my love. I don't give it freely, and I don't want to. If they pay me, they get it."

"Though that is correct, the reason is different."

I was puzzled. "What is it then? I can't fathom another reason."

He shook his head very slowly, and whispered, as if it were a sin to speak the word, "Love. As long as you live and work here in my generous bawdyhouse, the Black Snake, you are never, ever, under any circumstances at all, ever, ever, allowed to fall in love."

"Love? What do you mean . . . ?"

"Heavens, child, do you know what love even is?"

I shook my head "no."

"Dear child . . . it's when you only sleep with one person for all of your life, and you never want to be with another. You spend the rest of eternity devoting your heart and genitals to only one man. And if you were to sell your love or give it to another, it would be a sin," Charlie explained darkly. That sounded so horrid. I grimaced. "Cherub, you may never, ever fall in love, lest I kick you to the streets. It is horribly forbidden in my humble cathouse. We are creatures of the underworld; we cannot afford to love."

"Have no fear, Charlie, I can't understand the infatuation with that silly idea. Who'd want to devout all their life to one person? It sounds ridiculous to me. I don't want any of that."

"Oh, my _cher enfant_, you truly are the Queen of Whores! There is no other like you."

Esme, who was hanging up clothes in the corner, scowled. I saw it in my peripheral vision, but did not turn to ask her. At that moment, I didn't really care much anyway.

"Well, get dressed, _enfant_, we have an important customer in our midst. Treat him better than you did Edward, even. Everything has to be perfect, understand all this, cherub?" I nodded. "Excellent; Esme! I still keep you in my house for a reason, help the princess get dressed."

Esme tugged my clothing off the rack as I sat down at my vanity. I hadn't any makeup on but red lipstick. And I looked beautiful.

Who needed love? It sounded silly and a waste of time. Just on person wasn't good enough for me. I wanted many adoring me, howling for me while I was on stage. I still didn't understand the concept completely, but that didn't mean I couldn't conclude that the idea was obsolete. It was stupid. It was for common peasant people. I didn't need it.

I glanced once more at my glowing face while Esme dragged me off to get dressed for Mr. Carlisle Cullen.


	5. Decided

I didn't want to recall the night with Carlisle. He was cruel to me, though he was fairly decent at sex when it came right down to it. But he called me names, and commanded me to do things. I was accustomed at least being ordered around in the bedroom, that's a whore's job, but the way he commanded and demanded had me fuming in the middle of the night. Edward had actually been right: his father was truly a cruel man.

I didn't make eye contact with him as I walked him to the door. Nor did I eavesdrop as he secretly discussed something with Charlie. I tried my best to pretend he did not exist at all anymore.

I felt distressed. Never had I felt so grievous over a suitor. Never had I felt like I did for Edward. It all perplexed me; it was like I was learning how to feel, for I didn't usually like or dislike people. My brain was confused with the flood of new feelings. So, I drank.

I don't see drinking as a bad habit - just a redeeming one. In the toughest times of my life I turn to Absinthe and wine. It hazes up my mind for weeks on end, but when it's other, it's as clear as glass and I can understand everything perfectly again. Drinking was really only used for necessary purposes, not just to get drunk for the hell of it . . . usually.

It was midday, but I didn't really give a damn about the time or even the place, my head was so befuddled. I sat down at the bar, and told Mike to bring me his strongest Absinthe. He didn't argue with me.

He brought me the drink, and I gunned it. He brought me another, and it was empty. Absinthe sure was a strong drink.

But I drank it anyway.

And drank it.

And drank it.

And kept on drinking it.

I didn't know the time or the place _at all _soon after. The only word I spoke was, "Absinthe." All Mike would say in return was, "Of course, Green Fairy." He knew my strong liking to Absinthe, so he dubbed me that stupid nickname, and I put up with it because everyone at the bar had started to call me that smart-ass nickname along with Mike.

But I drank.

And drank.

And drank some more.

Weeks must have crashed by, but no one bothered me. Everyone, even Charlie and Rosalie, knew to steer clear of me when I was going through a drinking time. They knew full well that I would not be in a good mood if either bothered me with a suitor.

Weeks continued to crash and I drank.

And drank.

And kept on drinking.

One day, I stopped, because I figured I'd had just about enough. So, for two straight days I slept instead.

And slept.

And slept.

For two days.

On the third day, when I awoke, I tied a robe around my waist, and climbed downstairs. I still had a horrid headache, so Esme fixed me some tea that calmed my head in a matter of moments, and I was finally able to think and clear my mind of the Cullen family problems.

I sat on the barstool. Mike took out an Absinthe glass, but I put a hand up to stop him. He understood that the hand meant that I was through with the drinking for now, and I was ready to get back to business.

So I propped my head up on my elbow, and tried to tangle through the mess in my head I called thoughts.

Edward . . . Edward. How could I even begin to describe the tumult within me when I heard the name? It was a feeling unlike any other I'd ever experienced. It made my hands shook and my forehead sweated. It my fingers clench and my eyes widen. I couldn't find a matching word to the feeling.

It was so confusing. It was a conflicting feeling that made my body react badly, but my heart and mind spring open with . . . some sort of happiness. The feeling was so complex, yet so simple at the same time, as it was composite to my body but so easy to my brain.

I couldn't analyze it any farther. It was tangled beyond disentanglement, and I couldn't even describe it. That was hopeless.

But Carlisle's was simple: I despised him. He was cruel and unjust, and that was that. I had nothing more to say about him. He was unkind to his son and maid, and even to me our first night as he bossed me around like a tyrant, not like a normal suitor. I really hated this man.

But I hated him even more when I thought of Edward. It was a sort of loathing that was so strong; it even hurt a bit.

Well now everything was certainly hopeless. I only knew that I hated Carlisle, that much was a given, and when I thought of Edward I hated his father beyond belief. The largest mystery, the feeling I felt when I also thought of Edward, was still unsolved, and there seemed to be no way of resolving it.

It may have been the hangover, or it may have been my befuddlement, but I laid my arms on the bar and sank my head into them. I cried. I'm not sure why, but I really wept.

It was only a couple of moments after I had started to bawl when I heard a high pitch, squeaky voice that I could only know too well ask Mike for a tall glass of white wine. I lifted my head from my arms.

Alice was sitting on the barstool beside me, looking ahead steadily. She didn't turn to stare at me sympathetically or skeptically. She looked on consistently until Mike brought her wine. When she had received the wine, she began to sip it as she finally turned to me. She had her eyebrows raised and was sipping the beverage provocatively, daring me to speak.

I stared back. We watched each other's eyes for a moment or two before Alice put the wine down, pursed her lips, took a deep breath, and said to me, "I didn't come he-ah just for da wine."

I looked at my hands. They were glistening with nervous perspiration. I wiped them on my robe hastily.

Alice raised her eyebrows again.

Her stare started to become too much, and I finally yelled out, "Okay, okay! What do want me to talk about, Alice?"

"Well, for starts you could tell me why ya was sobbin' like a mental patient over here not a second ago."

I hesitated. Should I really tell Alice about the turbulence surrounding Edward within me? Or would she report me to Charlie, and have him kick me out and onto the streets?

Then I realized Alice would never do such a thing to me.

"Well . . ." I began, but I paused again. I took a deep breath and launched into everything that I knew about this feeling. I told how my body and heart became so conflicting when even his name entered my mind. I told her how my hate for Carlisle would darken when I also thought of Edward. I told her I couldn't fathom the feelings or what was happening. She listened intently, like she always did, the whole way through.

When I was done, she looked at me. She studied me. She watched my expression and evaluated my appearance. She nodded and grunted to herself. I was motionless and silent.

Finally, Alice snorted as if it should have been obvious, and exclaimed, "Darlin', Bella, you're in _love_!"

I clamped my hand over her mouth and shushed her. I told her what Charlie had explained to me the night before I slept with Carlisle. She blushed, and then whispered it again.

I reacted harshly. I rolled my eyes, and hissed back, "_Alice_! I cannot be in _love_!"

Alice didn't mind. She nodded enthusiastically, and whispered in a grande voice, "Yes, ya are! Oh, Bella, you are so lucky! What's it like, huh? Now that you know you in love, what's it feel like?"

My jaw dropped. "Alice, _please_ stop joking with me! I am not in love with anyone; I can't be. Charlie will kick me out."

"So what? Why don't ya just run away with this Edward character you're so in love with?"

"Alice, I told you, there is not way in this world that I can or will be in love with anyone. Can't you see that?"

"Well, to tell ya the truth, what I can see is you runnin' off with this character, and livin' the happiest ever after. Don't that paint a pretty picture? Don't you want that, Bella?"

I shook my head. "No!"

"Well, why not? Dat's why everyone else is in this dump! They wanna fall in love, like you!"

"Quit it, Alice! Just get over it: I am not in love!"

She rolled her eyes. "Look, kid, I know love when I see it. I have firsthand experiences with friends and relatives who were all in love, and I watched it happen every time. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout."

My mouth turned dry and my voice was shaky. "Alice . . . Alice . . . You better take that back!"

"Why would I take that back? Is a blessin', silly, not a curse! You don't understand how lucky you really are to be in love, Bella! All a us want that, but you have it. Get it?"

"No! Why would you want this awful feeling? Why would you want to leave the brothel? Why would you do any of that?"

"Awful feeling? _Awful feeling_? Bella, think a Edward. Now, listen to what your heart is sayin', not ya palms or ya stomach. Listen to what your heart is sayin' while ya think of him."

I obeyed Alice. At first, I was reluctant to bring his perfect mental image back, but when I did and I listened to my heart instead of my stomach, I was no more reluctant than I was unhappy.

At first I didn't tell her this. She waited patiently, sipping the wine, watching my face intently. Finally, after several moments of waiting, she yelled out, "Well?! How does it feel _now_?"

I jumped at her high pitch yelling. "Sheesh, Alice!" I still did not answer her simple question.

She smirked. "Don't tell me - I was _right_?"

I looked defiantly in the other direction to avoid her smug expression while crossing my arms over my chest.

"Meet 'em," she said smugly as I turned to look at her, disbelieve in my eyes, "tonight. Tell 'em. I bet ya he'll say it back to ya, I bet ya anythin', kid. And you can run away together!"

More disbelieve tainted my voice and expression. "But . . . Carlisle has asked to stay tonight . . ."

"Get rid a him."

"But, what about all my things? The jewels, the gold? And the shows, what about all my shows?"

Alice shook her head. "Love is better."

"But . . . we'll have nothing."

"You'll have ya love."

"Can that buy me any food, Alice? Can it pay for my drinks? Can it buy me new clothes? Well, can it, Alice?"

She looked mildly guilty. "You'll understand when you've accept you love this boy."

I pursed my lips. "Right."

"Look, I'll arrange for you to meet 'em tonight. I'll handle Carlisle too. Just be in ya room by ten, no later. Don't mention any of dis conversation to Charlie either, okay? See ya at ten."

My jaw dropped. I called after her faintly, but Alice left the bar so swiftly, leaving an empty wineglass behind, that she hadn't even heard my wispy cries. I was motionless for a few minutes afterward. It took me a good bit of time before I could even begin to think about computing what was going to happen tonight in my slow turning mind.

Alice was setting me up to meet with Edward tonight behind Charlie's back, and somehow get rid of Carlisle too.

It seemed simple enough to understand, but to my mind, it was too complex. I had to tell Edward I loved him. I would eventually have to run away with him if I became as madly in love with him - he returning to feeling as well, of course - as Alice said I would. And poor, unknowing Charlie and Carlisle . . . I had to leave them behind without telling either a word.

What would Carlisle do? Would he send a search party after his son? And Charlie? Would he send one after _me_?

What if they caught us? How would Carlisle punish Edward? Would he? Would Charlie punish me?

These unanswered questions swirled about in my head, begging for answers that I couldn't give. How does one run away with someone? Where would we go? How would we eat? Sleep? More and more unreciprocated questions snowballed in my brain.

And tonight . . . what was I supposed to do? Merely wait? How was Alice going to pull all of this off? She was notorious for being sly and cunning, but how could she manage it all by ten, which was in two hours? Where was she? Was she getting rid of Carlisle as I silently spoke to myself?

I hurried upstairs to my room, and changed in a flurry. Now that I knew I was in love, the feeling was not terrifying anymore, for I knew what it was. I was excited to see Edward again. I changed into something rather aphrodisiacal hastily - deep red satin corset and fishnet tights.

I sat on my bed and waited.

I was going to see Edward soon.

My heart fluttered.

**Keep I mind that this is a sort of fairytale, where falling in love is that commonplace. Reviews please :)**


	6. Speak

**It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, here you are. I was just having so many creative rushes and new ideas that I kinda forgot about my older stories. Sorry, everyone :/**

Edward was coming.

Tonight.

In just a few moments!

I fluttered around the room, my hands flitting about, my feet skidding around the room. I threw on a dark blue dress. It was a nice change from my usual attire, a corset.

The blue dress was perfect. It was sexy, yet sophisticated. It showed the perfect amount of cleavage, which was about half of it. I fluffed up my scraggly, curled brown in an effort to make it look somewhat presentable. I reapplied my red lipstick, and modeled for myself in my full-length gilded mirror. I slipped on my black high heels, and plopped down on my plush bed haplessly. I didn't know what else I could other than wait.

What was I going to say to him when Alice brought him here? Be blunt, just come out and say it? How could I even begin to phrase what I needed to say to him anyway? _Hello, Edward, I know we only met once, but my friend, yeah, the one that kidnaped you, convinced me that I love you and we have to run away together. So, what do you say?_

No. This was going to be absurd, stupid, pointless! I couldn't believe Alice had tricked me into doing this. I bet she was even bringing him, and this was all just an elaborate prank she decided to play. I wouldn't have been terribly surprised if that were the case though.

I was disappointed in myself for falling into another Alice scheme. I buried my face in my palms, and groaned. She had toyed with my feelings, and now I thought I was in love. As if.

Well, all this was ridiculous. What was I to do now? My feelings were tangled once again, and I was hapless again. I sighed, frustrated, and pounded my fists to the sides of my head. I groaned again, and opened my arms again. I began to pace quickly, thinking.

Well, there wasn't any point, now, was there? I could just go to sleep if I wanted. I glanced up a the clock; it was ten, and still no Alice, confirming my accusal. I sighed angrily, and began to slip off my slick black pumps. And I had been so excited to see him again.

I glanced at the clock one more time, which sent my last hopes dashing. It was five past ten, and still no one. I sighed, and fell back on my bed. I stared at the ceiling contemplatively.

It must not have been terribly long, because suddenly I was startled by something tapping on the glass of my window. I whipped my head around sharply. I couldn't see anything - it was very dark outside - but got up to get a better look anyway. I still could see nothing. I decided to open my window - I mean, who could it be? Alice be bringing . . .

And she wasn't. There was no one, just the full moon. I sighed wistfully, and whispered to the night, "Thanks, Alice."

"No problem, sweetie!" a rusty, squeaky voice breezed in from somewhere close by.

I gasped, and stuck my head out of the window in a feeble attempt to find her. "Alice, _where are you_?" I hissed harshly, still whipping my head about in order to find my friend.

"Oh, calm down, lass! I'm right here!" her high-pitched voice called to me again. I looked down.

Alice waved nonchalantly at me from a balcony below. Instantly, I panicked, for that balcony was old and decrepit; no one had stood upon it for years. I searched for the right words to ridicule her idiocy. "Alice! You get off of that damned balcony right now!"

She laughed her piercing laugh. "Bella, don worry! And here, I got ya mate down here too!"

I almost screamed. Instead, I opted for hissing again. "Alice, you _damnez petite prostituée_ -"

"A damn little prostitute who got ya mate!"

I was at a loss for words. "Fine, Alice, fine. And how do you propose to get my 'mate' up here, hmm? Are you going to lift him from _there_? Tie a rope around him and pulley him up?"

Alice laughed that annoying laugh again. "Calm down, Bella. I got ya man, ya just gotta help me get 'em up der."

I crossed my arms, and looked out at the night. "And how am I going to help you, huh?"

I glanced down at Alice briefly. She was rolling her eyes. Typical Alice. "Here; grab his arm right here."

I was going to have to lean out of the window to get to Edward, but I did it. I grasped his cold hand, and that's when I finally realized he himself was not moving or speaking. "Um, Alice . . ."

"Chloroform. Ain't it handy stuff?"

I paused for a brief little moment, doing my best to soak in her modern lawbreaking.

I took a deep breath. "Chloroform?"

"_Oui, chloroforme_."

I rolled my eyes. "I cannot believe you, Alice."

With the help of Alice below, we were able to lift him enough so that I could pull him through my window . . . roughly. When we were finally finished and exhausted, Alice said quickly between dainty pants, "You don't gotta believe me, just take ya mate. I'm outta here."

Edward was slumped against the wall. I pulled him up, and dropped his heavy frame on my bed. I didn't know the workings of the modern gas, so I didn't know when or if it would wear off. I sat down on the bed next to Edward, and twined my fingers together, waiting.

Suddenly, Edward's body twitched. His eyes were wide with panic as we flopped around abruptly. I stood up. He glared at me wildly, his mouth ajar, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Edward, relax," I pleaded. He was so frazzled, I was beginning to think he would tell his father. "_S'il vous plaît . . . se reposent juste._"

"What is going on, Bella?" he asked through clenched teeth, surly. I was not phased by his sudden discourtesy. "Where's the little black-haired girl who knocked me out?!"

"Edward, be calm. That little black-haired girl is named Alice. She's a good friend of mine, and she convinced me that I needed to talk to you about something she deemed serious."

His angelic face melted into concern. He was not angry anymore, thankfully. "What is it, what's wrong? It's my father, isn't it? Bella, what did he do to you? You can tell me."

"No, no, it's not your father . . . I mean, I don't like him, but he's not the so-called 'problem' you and I are having here." I glanced nervously to Edward. I cleared my throat, and began to twiddle my thumbs.

"Well, what seems to be the problem then?" His voice was filled with worry and loving concern. I blushed. No one had ever seemed to carry that much attention for me before this.

When I turned to him briefly, I noticed he was standing and staring. I did a double-take. His beautiful emerald-green eyes were filled with such beautiful compassion and concern, that I had to look away. When I looked back, he was smiling a dazzling crooked smile that sent my heart melting and my mind reeling. He was beautiful.

"What are you staring at?" I asked nervously. My throat quivered, and my lips bounced around, bumping into each other restively. I snapped my mouth shut to make them stop.

"Bella, I love it when you blush. _C'est une si belle ombre d'écarlates, vous n'avez pas remarqué_?" His beautiful French was overwhelming. I laughed nervously, trying to brush it off. I looked away. He put a cool hand to my burning cheek, and turned my face back to his. "_Bella, vous êtes si jolis. Vos yeux sont larges et ils scintillent doucement. Votre peau est pâle et lisse. Vos lèvres sont cramoisies et molles. Angélique._"

Suddenly, a boldness took over me. It may have been the passion and power in his poetic words, or it may have been the adrenaline that flowed through me when he said them, but it was strong, and it clouded my mind. I pushed my lips into his, and like chemicals, they reacted instantly.

"_Edward, vous êtes plus que tout de cela à moi. Votre sourire tordu éblouit et quand vos yeux verts vacillent au mien, j'ai l'impression que mon coeur fond comme la glace_," I whispered fiercely against his lips as they repeatedly fell into mine.

He kissed me roughly, and we fell onto my bed. I wrapped my legs around his back, and he whispered against my abruptly flaming skin as he kissed down my neck, "_L'amour, vous êtes la lune et vous êtes le soleil. Votre beauté avale tout, donc rien d'autre n'est joli plus._"

We hastily undressed ourselves in between kisses. We were naked in a few minutes, and I could finally take his whole, unexposed self in. I breathed his lovely scent in, and whispered wildly, "_Votre corps est si joli, Edward; je le veux. Le sommeil avec moi ce soir_?"

He smiled at me sweetly, and leaned down. I closed my eyes. He whispered in my ear, "I thought you'd never ask."

Roughly, fiercely, we intertwined ourselves. We tasted my body, and sweet moans of pleasure were not in short supply. We kissed for a long time, feeling, preserving, keeping. We did it slowly, so we could remember this. I wrapped my legs and arms around him, and he entered. Our moans lingered together as we panted and kissed together ferociously.

That night was a night. When we were through, we lay together at the foot of the bed. I leaned my naked body on one of his sides, my arms wrapped around him, and one foot bent across him dangerously. Edward had an arm tucked under my head for comfort.

We lay still for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. He watched the cracks and stared at the peeling white paint.

It was time. It was now or never. And it was so true. Right now, it was pure and correct. I had to say it now or I would never find a better or more sensible time to say it.

I propped my chin up on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear softly, "Edward?"

He was fully awake when he answered me gently, kissing the top of my head, "Bella?"

I hesitated. I didn't know how to say this. Did anyone else in the world worry about this moment? Was anyone else in the world confessing love right now as well? Or was I the only one to suffer this agony? It was just three little words. It couldn't be that hard. Obviously, it had been done before. I just had to spit it out, like everyone else before me had.

"I love you."

The three words hung in the air like dust. Their poignancy and uniqueness were like bright lights in my dark, musty room. And they lit the pathway to each other. Or they would, if Edward would answer. His side of the tract was dim, and it was because he hadn't replied yet.

I began to worry. What if Alice was wrong, and he didn't love me back? What was I going to _do_? Continue life as if the one person I'd ever loved that did not love me back did not matter? Blow it off? What did other people do? Did this even_ happen_ to other people? Why did it seem that I was the maverick, the trailblazer for all of this?

The silence was pungent; it was tangibly barbed. It poked at my exposed skin and it burned. I did not like this type of silence . . . it hurt me, from both the inside and outside, for it was eating a hole in my chest where my heart usually was located. What was this?!

Stillness, silence.

The biting abyss was eating a hole through my mind now too, chopping away at my sanity.

I felt as though I might cry. The back of my throat became scratchy, a sure sign tears were to follow. I put my lips at Edward's ear once more, and whispered his name brokenly.

This time, he turned, and looked down at my face. He must have seen the agony, for his face twisted in suffering too. "Bella, I . . ." he began to say, but stopped himself. He bit his lip.

I sighed. "Edward, I understand," I whispered, torture ripping up my throat and words.

He abruptly chuckled. This was not funny. I looked up at him. His eyes were alive and joyful. My mouth fell open, and I rapped the side of his head with a free fist. "I am sorry, Bella, it's just . . . Why would you think that I didn't love you in return?"

I gasped again. "Edward Cullen! Because you didn't answer! You're suppose to say it back of course!"

"Am I?"

My mouth fell open, and I was some kind of speechless. "Well, of course; how am I to know if you feel the same way if you don't tell me or give me some sort of response?!"

He laughed. "I do love you, Bella. I've loved you since that first morning. _Je ferais n'importe quoi pour vous. Je vous apporterais le soleil, le suspendrais sur votre lit. Je vous embrasserais partout quotidien juste pour vous. N'importe quoi, n'importe quoi pour vous._"

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you!_ Il est si agréable d'entendre ces mots parce que je n'ai jamais aimé personne auparavant; entendre le premier dicton que c'est une bénédiction. Oh, comment je vous aime ainsi._"

"_N'importe quoi pour vous._"

I laughed, and kissed Edward lightly. He kissed me back. It was a sweet kiss, not strained nor needy. It was a sweet kiss two lovers share passingly when they feel like it.

"I love you," he breathed in my ear again.


	7. Project

**Due to somewhat popular demand, I will have an A/N translation chapter at the end of the story for all the sticklers who did not want to find a French-English dictionary online, even though there are plenty of said online dictionaries floating around.**

**Also, a side note, the chloroform thing with Alice was, in fact, historically correct. The poison was discovered in 1831 by an American scientist, and again by a French scientist months later; my story is set in 1899. Just wanted to clear that up for the ones who were speculating.**

**Read it, then enjoy, and then hurry over to review it. It makes me feel happy :D **

In the morning, Alice appeared once again to take Edward back to his home the way she had the previous night. He was indecisive at first, but soon agreed hesitantly when the sun began to rise and Alice said Carlisle's chloroform would begin to wear off soon.

Just as Edward was about to jump out of window and down to the rickety balcony, I felt a sudden impulse to call out his name, which I did, and kiss him one last time, which I did. I told him I loved him, and to be careful. He told me he loved me back.

Again, he was just about to fall out of the window when I called his name one more time. He wasn't annoyed, but turned to me lovingly instead. I put my arms around his shoulders in an attempt to seem calm, but the longing and worry in my voice could not be masked when I whispered to his bright blood-red lips, "When will you be back?"

He kissed me passionately, and then whispered back, "Alice and I will arrange a schedule."

I smiled and kissed him, breathy. When I separated our lips, I bit my lower one, and, again, the yearning and heartache in my voice could not be cloaked. "Hurry back to me."

He kissed me even more passionately than before in reassurance. "I want to be here with you more than you can know."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Bella, _je vous aime_. _Je vous aimerai pour toujours. _Do you understand that, Bella? Forever."

I nodded. He then swiftly jumped out the window, and I rushed to it, watching him out. He waved to me as Alice shoved him down a chute beside the balcony. I couldn't see much, but the slide looked old and rusty. I prayed that Alice knew what she was doing; I couldn't handle it if _either_ of them died on the wobbly balcony or the rusty slope.

I closed the window before my thoughts could go any further. I quickly dressed in my casual red sun dress, and plopped the matching hat atop my head. I applied my usual red lipstick, pulled on the classic white gloves, and lapsed my feet into my tight, white high heels. I put on my confident, yet passive expression and proceeded out of my door. I had to play this right or Charlie would suspect something and be furious. But I was sly and a crook; I could play this like a violin. After all, I _was_ Bella of the Glass Swans.

I clacked down the stairs loudly so everyone was staring at me when I walked into the backstage area. Only Rosalie, Angela, Esme, and Charlie were down there though. But I supposed that was enough of an audience; for this was going to be a good show.

"Charlie, I won't have it!" I cried petulantly, placing my hands to my hips in a sassy position.

He hurried to my side. "What is it, _le chérubin_? What's troubling you?" he asked in a concerned, demeaning voice. I hadn't noticed how much of a groveler he had become.

I rolled my eyes and continued in my high-pitched, pouting voice, "Carlisle didn't come last night, and if he doesn't want me, he cannot have me, understand, Charlie?"

He seemed momentarily stunned before bumbling, "Bella, _ma chérie_, w-what do you mean? What do mean he didn't show up last night? That, that is impossible, he promised he'd be here . . . I bet, I bet something happened to him, he fell ill or something with his son -"

"He obviously does not want me."

"Doesn't . . . doesn't_ want_ you? _Ma petite étoile_, who wouldn't want you as their concubine? Everyone wants you, there is no way Mr. Cullen would refuse or even decline a night . . . with you . . ." He seemed rather perplexed, and even more so flustered, trying to make sense of my lie.

"Charlie, he does not want me, so I do not want him. Give him to someone else; give him Rosalie - I'm sure she would love to be Carlisle's." I tugged Rosalie so she was beside me and our arms were intertwined. She was about to protest when I whispered to her secretly, "He's a rich man who will not only pleasure you, but also buy you gifts."

Instantly, her expression changed, and she grinned widely. "Why, I'd love to be this Mr. Cullen's concubine!" she exclaimed, exaggeratedly overjoyed. Her grin was hyperbolically overjoyed as well.

Charlie looked dismayed, eyeing one prostitute to the next. "Well, um, we'll have to speak to, uh, Mr. Cullen then. A contract is a contract, but he can break it if he so desires Rosalie instead."

Rosalie was somewhat giddy. I was worried; what if Carlisle _did not_ deny wanting me? How would Edward and I love . . . ?

I fled to Alice's room when everyone had dispersed, hoping she was just arriving. We needed to discuss a strategy, a plan for the future because she had suddenly become a key part in my love affair.

When I burst into her room, she was there waiting. Her smile was cocky, and her arms were crossed confidently over her chest. She was leaning against her window. "What can I do for ya?" she asked innocently, though her expression remained smug.

I eyed her cautiously, and then abruptly flopped onto her large bed. "A plan," I sighed.

She cackled, and plopped down next to me. "Plans," she said slowly and sultrily, "are my specialty, Muss Bella. So, what kind of plan is it _this_ time? I can take whatever you dish."

I smiled and tousled her black hair. "I need a plan to get rid of Carlisle. I want him to take Rosalie, but I don't know how we're going to convince him to do that," I explained quickly.

She eyed me slowly. "You love this boy more than I thought ya would," she remarked.

I blushed, and looked out of her window. "So what are we going to do, Alice? Any ideas?"

"Mmm-hmm, oh yeah, I got one . . . _dump Carlisle and run away with this Edward character_! If ya really love 'em, it should be easy!"

"Alice, don't you see? He'll look for me! He'll search for me and his son until we're found, and when we are . . ." I looked away from Alice again. "I can't even think about it. He'll take me away from Edward! I'll be punished! I'll never see him again, Alice, and I can't . . ." I buried my face in my hands. "Alice, I've never felt this way before, and though it is abrupt, it's so true and pure, and I can't lose it, Alice, I just can't lose him!"

I felt my eyes swell and the tears set themselves in place behind my eyes. Alice placed a warm hand on my back. "It's okay, Bella. Let it out, let it all out. You can tell me this."

I turned to her, my lip quivering. "Alice, I love him. I love him so much. And I don't want to pretend anymore! I'm tired of being someone else's person, a puppet!" The damn tears started to pelt my red dress. "I don't want to lie, I don't want to pretend! He's the only kind of love I have in this place, and I can't lose it!" I buried my face in Alice's shoulder, sobbing into her shoulder. "I can't do it anymore, I can't, I just can't . . ."

My face was twisted in pungence, and the tears streamed faster and more plentiful into Alice's bony shoulder. She shushed me gently, patting me back, rubbing my shoulders. "Bella, Bella, please, don't worry. We'll figure something out, love, we will. We'll fix it. I'll arrange for you two to run away together tonight; it'll work -"

"Alice, I can't take the chance of losing him, I can't, Alice, please, I can't!" I shouted into her shoulder.

"We'll figure a way out. Don't ya worry, darling, we'll fix this. We will, we will, please don worry . . ." I pulled my face up to hers. She wiped the tears away with her thumb. "We will find a way ta fix this."

I laughed, but it came out sounding more like a sob. "Thank you so much, Alice; I don't know what I'd do without you!" I kissed her ink-black hair in a sisterly way, and she wiped the tears from my cheeks again.

"Don mention it, lovey. And Edward will be back tonight; Carlisle at home with some doctors tendin' to 'em."

I smiled, and sob-laughed again. She hugged me, and I pulled her tight to me. My best friend. My only friend really.

I tiptoed out of her room, and to my own. I insisted to Charlie that I was too distraught over Carlisle to do a show that night, and reluctantly he allowed me to miss the show that night. Instead, he decided to put Rosalie in my place, much to her excitement.

I waited patiently in my room, not bothering to change or check my hair; there wasn't a need. I didn't need to impress him anymore. Edward loved me just the way I was, with or without clothes, dirty or clean, dressed up or dressed down; he wouldn't care.

I lay down on my bed, and closed my eyes gently. I imagined the conversation we would have. I imagined Alice's snappy comments and Edward and I's secret looks and touches throughout the night.

Someone tapped on the window. I opened it. Instantly, out of the darkness of the night, Edward lips met with mine, his body quickly following as he wrapped his arms around me. I put my hands to his cheeks and began to kiss him back with the same amount of passion he was supplying on his end. And we were both so happy the way we were . . . until Alice busted in behind him shouting, "All right, all right, get a room when we're done discussin'."

I laughed against Edward's lips, pecked his mouth once, and pulled away. Edward insisted on staying connected to me - which wasn't a problem for me - and linked out fingers as I followed Alice.

Alice sat down on the tiny sofa that was tucked away in the corner of my room. Edward and I sat in front of her on the floor, leaning against the bed that was parallel to the tiny sofa.

We waited for Alice to speak, but it was several moments until she did; Alice liked to build up momentum like that. "So, we gotta throw a plan togetha before your two horny asses jump each other, no?"

I blushed, and Edward brushed my cheek with his free hand. Edward nodded for us.

Alice clapped her hands together. "Well, I like the plan that you guys just run away together tonight, now, but I don't think Edward over there is too keen on the risk either, eh?" I looked up at Edward, and he shook his head. Alice sighed. "Well, do either of ya have another plan?"

"What if we _planned_ a runaway?" Edward suggested boldly. Alice smiled. I glared at him as if he was insane. He the addressed my wild stare by saying, "Well, what if we worked everything out so that the risk of being caught and separated wouldn't be so great? There were no kinks, and we were free? We could plan out the journey, where to go and how to get there successfully. If we plan correctly, this could work out perfectly."

I bit my lower lip. I still didn't like the idea; the thought of parting from Edward kept reentering my mind, and I couldn't shake it - even when he promised me the next plan would be risk-free.

Alice became her impatient, pushy self. "Bella, please, c'mon, we can make this plan_ foolproof_! Goofproof, errorless, certain! We _can_ work out the kinks so it's spotless! I mean, it may take a few nights of planin', but we can make it work for certain; no matter the nights we use."

I glanced at Edward, and then shifted back to Alice. I'd never felt so uncertain in my life. I was usually straight on track, with my deadpan expression; but now I was worried and unsure of our fate. I didn't trust anything anymore because I couldn't lose what I had.

And then I realized it: I never really had anything! The jewels, the admirers, the money . . . it had never meant anything. Everything I had was a lie. I was a lie. And like I had previously acknowledged, I couldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't be a lie. I had to take chances, and leap across the universe for this. If I didn't, I was still just a weak little lie, a facade. But if I said yes to this plan . . . then I would be taking my first step into the world, into reality.

And if I stepped into realism, I would step into love, into Edward's heart; where I wanted to be more than any other place I could think of. If I was not a fake, if I decided to be real, though that meant pain and hate as well, I would have Edward completely; he would finally be mine.

I glanced once more at Edward, and then back down at my profusely perspiring hands. I stole a glance at Alice briefly too. To my hands, I whispered softly, "I'll do it."


	8. Question

**Well, you've got a two and a half page lemon coming your way; just a warning.**

**Don't forget to review and make me happy? I mean, what else are you going to do? Kick puppies? Scream at little children? . . . I shudder to think, so why don't you just review?**

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, for half the night Alice, Edward, and I would all sit around mapping out places to go and how to get there successfully. Edward and I agreed on Orléans, a large city almost directly south of Paris. It was a large enough city that it was placed on the map Edward stole from his father's study, which meant Edward and I could try to make some money by other means than prostitution.

Alice thought we should just travel up the hill that was located in the outskirts of Paris to a small village called Montmartre. My only fear was that the popular cabaret, which was run by courtesans, the Moulin Rouge (**A/N: Sorry, I rarely do this, but I just wanna say the Moulin Rouge **_**is**_** a real place, it **_**was**_** run by courtesans, the cancan was actually **_**born**_** there, and it's still functional today.**) would become too much of a temptation for me. "Bad habits die slowly" I often reminded her when she brought it up. So, Alice soon gave up on the idea of the little town just north of Paris. As a consolation, we promised we'd take Alice along with us. It was the least we could do.

The other half of the nights were spent with Edward, and only Edward. Every night was my personal nirvana with my personal angel. We reveled in each blessed night we had together, making love to each other until the sun came up and he had to leave me again. Those nights are the nights that were imprinted eternally on my memory.

Sick with the amount of chloroform Alice gave Carlisle, it was easy enough to do these things each night. Edward would report to us each night how sick his father was, and how rapidly the doctors said he would recover. We needed to work fast, for it had been two and a half weeks. Carlisle was bound to recuperate and return here in no time.

Luckily, all plans and kinks were mapped out by the end of the third week. We just needed to wait for the opportune moment to conduct the runaway. It had to a precisely right time, or the whole plan would go up in smoke; all that we had worked for would be ruined.

So, we waited. Edward said his father was sure to be well by the end of the third week; because of this, we savored the secret nights even more, and because Alice was out of our hair, we could.

It was the first night of the third week. It was the first night Alice was gone, the plan was finished, and we were all alone again. We already knew what we wanted to do.

Edward climbed in through the window as always, swinging one leg over the balcony, and then pulling his body over as well. I loved to watch him do this; for some reason, it mystified me, and made me honor Edward even more than I already did. He seemed so brave, so valiant as his muscles tightened and he pulled his whole body weight in using only one leg. I admired him so.

As soon as he was in the room and had regained his balance, I jumped him, wrapping my legs around his waist, tangling my fingers in his aluminiferous bronze, and locking our lips.

"Edward?" I asked between kissing his beautiful lips. "Do you want to play a game tonight? You know, spice it up?" I said each word in between his sweet kisses so it sounded mixed up.

"Hmm . . ." He said each "m" after a kiss. "What sort of a game?"

"A sexy game, of course. It's called 'Doctor'. Are you ready to examine me, Edward? I'll be the patient."

He laughed and separated our lips. I looked deep into his bright emerald eyes. He looked into my chocolate brown ones unfalteringly. He smiled suddenly, and whispered, "Yeah, let's play."

I let go of him, and landed on my feet. As I strode to my bed seductively, I said without turning my head to even look at Edward, "You know, I'm a very good actress."

He laughed - so velvety and pure - and said sultrily, "Bella, of course, I knew that; what kind of a person would I be if I didn't acknowledge the best actress in all of France?"

I smiled to myself, but then got myself into character. I dropped on the bed dramatically, groaning in pain in obvious exaggeration, and put a shaking hand to my forehead to seem like a damsel in distress. "Oh, Doctor Cullen, I feel just dreadful!" I exclaimed, overly showy.

Edward chuckled, and then snapped into character as well. He pretended to look at a clipboard, like any real doctor would. "Well, Miss Bella, what seems to be the problem?"

I groaned in feigned agony again, and moved my arm so it was placed over my eyes simply for the dramatics. "Could you examine me, Doctor? I don't know what's wrong!"

"Well, where do you think I need to examine you? I need a general idea of where you're hurting, Miss."

I sniffled, obviously in mocking, and sat up. I pushed my yellow summer dress so that my lower body was completely exposed to Edward; I was not wearing anything underneath. I pointed at it. "It hurts down there. Can you please look at it? Maybe . . . touch it to make extra sure?"

Edward nodded, and lowered his head. I saw him steal a smirk. "Bella, I'm going to do quite a lot of licking, touching, and biting . . . is that all right with you?" As he said that incredibly exciting line, he began to trace the creases of my clit with the tip of his finger. Also, at that moment, I felt a good bit of moisture squirt from me. Edward hadn't been doing a very good job of hiding his happiness and excitement when that happened.

"Whatever you need to do to help, Doctor!" I cried in the most sexy yet pained voice I could muster.

I saw something snap in Edward's face, and immediately, he went to work. First he traced the skin of my thigh with his tongue, taunting me until he finally dug his tongue into my vagina, while tickling my clitoris with his available fingers. As soon as his tongue was in, practically French kissing my hole, my eyes widened, and I gasped in orgasmic delight.

After a good bit of sucking and kissing my vagina, and after a good bit of moisture, Edward started to gently suck on my clit. After my screams started to gain more volume, he began to bite it softly, tugging on it more and more until I was breathless.

When he was sure I was panting with eyes wide-open, he came up, and said, "Why, Miss Bella, I'm going to need to have sex with you to fully assess the problem, is that all right with you?"

In between orgasmic gasps and soft pants, not to mention totally out of my patient character, I yelped, "Whatever . . . you need . . . to do."

Edward smirked beautifully. I loved Edward when he was like this.

I tried to regain some dignity. I forced myself to stop panting, and be sexy. Only when I was around Edward did that suddenly become an unfair and foreign challenge to me.

I rose, and put myself into a crouching position. I smiled evilly, and purred, "Come here, Doctor."

Edward didn't move, only stared at me seductively with the same kind of smugness on his seraphic face as before. I sighed, and yanked him over my using the front of his button up shirt. I pulled it over his head hastily, not even bothering to mess with the buttons, which rumpled his already tousled copper-colored hair. But I liked it like that.

Edward growled out loud, attacking the zipper on my dress with his teeth. Again, I had nothing on beneath it.

Edward's nose grazed down my leg, smelling my scent he'd so often told me he loved during sex. His nose wove an intricate pattern on the inside of my thigh. I closed my eyes and enjoyed it briefly. He scattered sweet kisses all over my leg, and I sighed his name.

After a while, a need flamed in my legs, and I grabbed Edward, pushing him to the bed beside me. I straddled him, quickly undoing his pants as I kissed his sweet mouth. When he was as naked as I was, I began to grind his leg. He started moaning into my mouth as his cold tongue raked across my teeth, his sweet breath mingled with mine.

Suddenly, I could feel the hardness of his hips against mine. Edward was supporting his own weight, but leaving no gap between our naked bodies. I kissed him deeper, letting my tongue sweetly massage his cool one. He then guided my hands so they were on his member. He proceeded to then tangle his fingers in my hair. I stroked his manhood as he groaned softly - it sounded like a quiet roar that I found exceedingly erotic.

"Bella," he moaned.

I placed my hand to his cheek, and kissed him once on his beautiful, crimson lips. "Edward," I replied, breathy.

He roared again - seductively, of course - and placed my hand back on his member. I smiled, and massaged it harder. I tried to send all the love and desire I had for Edward to my fingertips so it could seep through them, and he could truly know how much I wanted him. His beautiful cries of sexual pleasure told me he somehow got the message.

Soon after he entered me and the fireworks within my heated body exploded, we started to decline together. Breathless and panting, we fell back onto the bed. I cuddled into the crevice he opened for me that was his arm and comparatively cool body. I tried to eternally embellish my mind with this memory of the cool, tingling feeling I had after a session like _that_ - amazingly erotic and aphrodisiacal yet so beautifully passionate - but the moment was too good to frame forever in the absolutely correct way.

I loved sex with Edward. Truly, I could not remember any better, any more significant sex in my whole span as a willing prostitute. His loving was so pure and genuine; I could feel his love for me radiate from every fiber of him as his cool skin was against mine.

I loved how Edward would delve so deeply within me to find that perfect spot, and our hips would push against each other, the bruises of love forming right then. It was my favorite moment of Edward's sex.

The passion and emotion I began to feel right then had me crying - unwillingly. Once Edward felt the salty wetness against his body, he turned his head, and even in the dark, I could see the concern that flashed in his eyes when he asked me, "_L'amour, pourquoi pleurez-vous_?"

I looked up at his cherubic face, the fingers I had lain atop the silky planes of Edward's chest curling, and smiled. "I'm only crying because I've realized how much I love you."

He smiled affectionately, and kissed my forehead. "I love you too, you know; silly Bella."

"Yeah, but I don't deserve you - that's the difference, see?" The tears slowly slid down each of my cheeks.

"_You_ don't deserve _me_?" he asked, stunned. "_Je suis celui qui ne vous mérite pas_! Don't you see that?"

I shook my head. He exhaled through his nose, frustrated, but then kissed my hair, inhaling my scent. The tears had stopped, but my face was probably pink and swollen. I nuzzled my face into his chest, inhaling the sweet scent that emanated from _him_.

I kissed his shoulder and whispered to it, "Edward, you know that I love you, don't you?"

He chuckled quietly to himself, and then whispered into my hair, "Bella, do you know that I love you? More than ever imaginable, ever possible? More than anyone had ever loved anyone else in the history of mankind? I may be errant at times, but this I know for sure . . . Do you?"

I bit his shoulder playfully. "Of course." Edward then shifted his position so he was sitting in front of me; I was still under the sheets, propping my body up on my elbow. "What is it?"

He leaned over the side of the bed where our clothes were scattered. I waited uncomplainingly for him to emerge again; I could feel the longing bubble inside me, for I did not like to be away from him like this right after we had mind-blowing and beautiful sex.

When he came back up, he was holding something I could not see in his hand. I pursed my lips, and raised my eyebrows. His smile was beaming with love, his face nearly glowing.

He laid back down next to me again, and pulled me close to his amazingly sculpted body. He opened his hand to reveal a black box. I looked at him with narrowed eyes; I was so very confused. Edward stared at the box, and searched for words before finally producing for himself, "No beating around the bush." He turned to me, his eyes sparkling, and said softly, full of the familiar caring he had for me for some reason, "Bella . . . Bella, my love, my only love, _vous marierez-vous avec moi_? Will you marry me?"

At first, I was completely confused. I'd only heard of marriage passingly, from other people's conversation I heard on accident. I knew it was some sort of ritual that involved two people who loved each other, but I had no idea what it entailed or what it was for. I looked into Edward's eyes in discombobulation, begging for an explanation. He grinned, and said, "I thought you might be confused. You see, marriage is the highest symbol of love, other than sex. It officially binds two people who love each other together. It is the highest level of commitment; if I ask you to marry me, which I am, that means I want to be with you forever, never to part from you, never to choose another." I gasped, realizing my rudeness. But he put a finger to my lips to halt the obvious apology that was to follow. "I don't mind; I thought that was rather cute." He smiled.

His finger left me lips. I looked at the box, which he had now opened to reveal a beautiful silver band that had diamonds sprinkled all around it. When I first saw it, I gasped again. It was so beautiful. I was speechless. The only thing I could choke out was an answering question that _sounded_ like, "Why would you even have to ask?"

Edward seemed to understand my answer. He beamed affectionately, and then kissed my overwhelmed face everywhere, whispering "Thank you" to my skin. He did not hesitate to slide the beautiful ring onto the third finger of my left hand. "It looks so beautiful on you, and it fits perfectly," he whispered to my forehead as he kissed it.

I stared at the ring. It was dazzling, sitting there on my finger. And it looked like it actually belonged there. I swivelled my head, and kissed Edward fiercely. And so the night began all over again.


	9. The Edge

**BACK WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER!**

**Sorry, but I won't be updating that regularly anymore; school's started again :( But I will try!**

It was early in the morning when Edward decided to stir me. The sun was just peeking its rays over the horizon, and I was fairly groggy; in my defense, we had stayed up all night making beautiful, passionate love that was forever printed on the left side of my heart.

At first, I buried my face in my pillows, refusing to move at all, even when Edward called me in his sweet melody of a voice. Soon though, his lips found me and coaxed me out of bed; I could still taste the faint savor of my cum on his tongue. I giggled and continued to kiss him fiercely; I didn't really care after all; it actually tasted kind of good in a way.

We got dressed slowly. Edward put his white button up shirt back on first, then the dark blue pants and matching vest. I dove into my closet and picked out a nice white dress with a purple hemline. There was a matching purple hat, but I opted instead for just simple white gloves.

I tried to fix my hair, but it was rather limp. I sighed; it was in need of a washing, but I didn't think I could do that with Edward around, it would be rude. So, I let it sit on my shoulders like a dead bird instead.

Edward's hair, of course, was perfect the way it was. Tousled, always wonderfully tousled, but it looked marvelous on him. His penny-colored waves were majestic, magnificent.

I was going to bother with the whole powder and red lipstick that I usually put on in the morning, but instead decided a quick little pat on the nose was enough. With Edward, I didn't much care about my appearance unless he was unsatisfied with it, which I deduced that he was not.

Edward's skin glowed, it was always radiant, no matter what he did or did not do. I did not envy it as much as I admired it.

That was the day that Edward had offered to take me somewhere, anywhere. He had a few spare coins in his pocket, and he wanted to do something for me, in celebration of our new commitment to each other. Though I hadn't a problem with celebrating, I couldn't extinguish one nagging feeling. I didn't really know what to say about it other than, "Edward you bought me this beautiful ring, don't you think that's enough?"

He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head, and answered simply and firmly with a "no".

My jaw dropped and I stared at him unbelievingly. "I . . . I just cannot believe you sometimes."

He grinned, and brushed his fingers over my cheek, for which they turned bright red. "Oh, Bella, don't you see? I want to buy the whole world for you; anything, everything. It's the very least I can do for you, simply because you love me back. I want nothing more than to give you everything I can, physically and materially. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, love."

I blushed, and looked at my feet. Then I realized something, and I looked back up at him. "The world, huh?" He nodded, absolute. "Well, Edward, what if I don't want the world? What if all I want are your lips . . . and your cool skin? Your long member and how it fits into me too perfectly . . . What if all I want is your passion? What if all that I want is your warm break on the nape of my neck each morning? What if all I want is to wake up to your angelic face and be able to call you mine? What if all that I want lies in the way you say my name . . . the way you breathe it softly in the middle of the night . . . in the way you insist that you love me? Edward, what if all I want is your heart?"

He did not smile and he did not grimace. You could maybe call him expressionless, except for the tiny pint of emotion that was buried deep within his reflection that I saw.

He came forward swiftly, as if it were a dire need, and wrapped his cool arms around my waist. He buried his face into my shoulder, and murmured to my curled hair, "Bella, you already have me. Since that first morning I awoke to your face. I was always yours."

"Then that's all need."

He raised his head and looked deep into my eyes. There was a sort of grief in there, rippling above the emerald green surface, but also a beautiful kind of awe, shining just below it.

"What is it, Edward?"

He paused, and continued to just look into my swimming eyes, hypnotizing me. Finally, he took a deep breath before saying, "Bella, do you know how you torture me so?"

"What? What do you mean? How can I make it better? I am so sorry, what can I do -"

"You cannot do anything, love. It's how much you love me that tortures me because I can never live up to it. I don't deserve you, to make it plain. It's so blatantly obvious sometimes, and I can't help but grieve over it sometimes. Do you understand, Bella?"

"No."

"I suppose you never will. You'll never understand the complexity of my love for you, and the depths of it. It, I suppose, will be a mystery to everyone but me. I am the lottery winner, love, not the prize."

"_Blasphème_! I'm sorry Edward, but that's just absurd! The whole thing, _le discours entier, c'était juste idiot! Je veux dire, c'était éloquent, vous êtes si éloquents,_ but Edward! Are you serious? Me? The prize, the trophy? _Je suis désolé_, but bullshit, dammit!"

He eyed me cautiously - I almost never cursed, see - but then kissed my forehead. "Let's take a bath, _vous joli, petit calomniateur_."

I gasped, but he grinned broadly, and how could I be angry with a face like that for more than a second?

Edward then asked me where the washroom was; I told him there was only one washroom for all the prostitutes to share. Charlie also had his own, and there was one for the drunk customers. He nodded, smiled in an angelically devious way - I know, oxymoron.

He then grabbed my hand, and started to pull me out of the door. Giggling, I asked him where we were going. He told me to lead him to the prostitute's washroom, which I did.

When I showed the room to him with a question on my face, he led me in and started to kiss me very deeply so as I was distracted when Edward locked the door behind us. I finally noticed something other than our tongues fighting for dominance in my mouth when I heard the water from the rusty old pipe blast on, for it was rather loud.

I parted our lips fleetingly and looked around.

I discovered we were locked in the cramped washroom. The lilliputian tub was in the farthest corner of the room, and a little bench used for keeping clothes was protruding from the wall just behind me, poking into the back of my legs. The water for the tub was running steadily, the steam rising and curling into thin, ash-gray ribbons. I glanced at Edward. He smiled endearingly, the corner of his lips exposing the shiny teeth beneath.

I stared at him quizzically, and asked him what he was planning to do with a cocked eyebrow. He took a deep breath and said casually, "Bella. We made love all night. And don't doubt me, it was beautiful, wonderfully passionate. I enjoyed every second of it. But he made love twice last night. And it was _all_ night! We might as well just say we had sex till the sun came up, nonstop, honestly. I think you need to bathe." He chuckled.

I gasped, my eyes widening as well. "Well, if I need a bath, you _definitely_ need a bath!"

He grinned. "That was sort of the plan, darling."

I gasped again, but then pursed my lips. "Well, Edward, do you know what I think of this absurd plan?"

His smile widened even more. "What?"

"I think I'll do it."

With that, Edward picked me up bridal style, and carried me to the filled tub. I had hastily unzipped my dress and thrown off the stupid gloves. Edward had taken care of the rest by slipping my dress off while undressing himself as well. One has to marvel at such a talent.

We splashed into the wooden tub, both naked. I laughed at the absurdity - the tub was tiny; it could barely fit one person!

Edward laid down in the wooden bathtub horizontally, his head resting on the edge, his feet propped up on the other end. He opened his arms, inviting me in. I glided through the water, and cuddled into his arms, against his wet chest. I placed my head at the base of his neck.

I nibbled at his neck, Edward stroking my hair. We sat like that for some time before Edward twined our fingers, kissed my knuckles, and submerged the connected fingers under the water.

I closed my eyes, and drifted into unconsciousness briefly. While the running off the water could still be heard throughout the dream, the dream itself was different, of course.

I was running across the streets of Paris from something, apparently. My breath was labored, and I was tired, I wanted to stop running; I knew I couldn't. The streets were dark, and it was obviously nighttime. A bright light flashed over me, and I froze in my tracks; I felt like I could not move, my feet blued to the ground. I saw my own eyes flash with panic as the light neared.

A dark figure stood in front of me; as the surrounding setting melted away, this figure became larger. He moved the lantern he was carrying to his face, and I saw that it was Carlisle.

I gasped, and tugged at my legs, begging them to move again. I stared up at Carlisle - who I could not see perfectly - and tugged at my legs faster, a desperate attempt at escape. Terror was like a tidal wave within me, crashing down on my stomach and unleashing chaos on my sporadic muscles.

I felt sweat drip down my forehead, matting my hair to my forehead. Tears spilled over, and added to the profuse sweat. "Please!" I yelled up at the huge Carlisle in futility.

A cage rose up beside Carlisle. It was my height and size, and made up of black unbreakable wrought iron. I looked inside - the horror melting down everything within me, squirming in my eyes like eels, eating away at my sanity - and saw my frantic Edward.

"_No_!" I screamed out, loud and painful, for the shout had ripped up the skin in my throat; it was throbbing.

Edward's hands grasped at the bars of the cage. His eyes darted around, terrified. They finally met with mine; I'd never seen him so vulnerable. He looked almost as scared as I was.

I fell to my knees, and reached out my hand - it was as close as I could get to him. He reached out a hand from in between the bars as well; for a second, it almost seemed as if they would meet. But Carlisle's cruelty shown through, as he lifted his foot and stomped at the cage, as if there was a bug, not his son locked in that barbarous, terrorizing cage.

I screamed out again, not caring how much it burned my throat.

Carlisle looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He lifted his foot, which, thankfully, there was nothing beneath, and came forward. He knelt before me, and made a mock pouting face. "Aww, you loved my son, didn't you, whore?" he asked, pretending to be sympathetic.

I nodded, tears rolling down my cheeks. Carlisle looked back behind him where the cage used to be, and back at me. He stuck out his lower lip before rising and yelling, "Well, that's too bad!"

My face fell, and I knelt to the ground again. I buried my face in my arms, and cried like I would never stop. I heard Carlisle's evil laughter, but I did not bother to look up at him.

But, from the heavy air, I heard Edward calling my name in a ghostly, far-off voice, "Bella . . . Bella . . . Bella . . ."

I looked up, and searched for him, but I could not find him anywhere. My lower lip trembled against my will, and I called his name too; my cries were much more frantic.

He still did not appear, and I began to thrash and writhe on the ground, shouting his name.

All of a sudden, I felt very hot. Unsatiably so, but it made me twist like a mental patient even more. I wiped sweat from my forehead, but more seeped out. I screamed, and cried still more.

Edward's cries started to become louder, more identifiable. I perked my ears, but did not stop thrashing. Something hard came down on my arms, restraining me to the ground so that I could no convulse about. There was heat on the back of my neck, and I scratched at it uselessly.

Suddenly, everything snapped back into place. My eyes snapped open, and the washroom snapped into my vision. My world snapped back again. Edward's hands were gripping my upper arms tightly, and I noticed that much of the water from the tub was lacking now. I peeked over the side, and saw that much of it was now on the wooden floor.

I was panting heavily. Edward noticed my eyes were opened again, and began to shush gently. "What . . . happened? Where . . . where am I, where was I, where did you . . . go?" I gasped.

Edward rubbed my arms, and kissed my cheek. "I didn't go anywhere . . . I was always here, you just had a bad dream, that's all, a simple little nightmare . . . Everything is fine now," he murmured.

I was rather disoriented. "But you were in the cage, and he crushed you there, right there like a little bug . . ."

"That was me you were talking about? In the cage that looked maybe just as frightened as you?"

"What . . . ? How, how do you know . . . what my dream . . . was . . . about?"

He chuckled. "You were telling me the whole time, love."

"What?"

"Oh, love, you talk in your sleep! You've never noticed that? No one has ever told you?"

I shook my head. My breathing was beginning to slow; I wasn't panting as heavily anymore. I slowly became oriented and aware of where I was again, and that Edward was safe, here, with me. "What? Talk in my . . . ? What are you talking about, Edward? No one has ever . . ." I said frantically. Though I was alert to my surroundings, I was suddenly unaware of myself.

"Oh, well, Bella, you talk in your sleep quite often. Throughout the nights, you wake me up. I really don't mind though; you're usually saying something about me that I like."

"What? Like what? What are you talking about?"

"Well, you say 'I love you' a lot. You say my name quite often as well. You say things like, 'I want you', 'Hold me', things like that. I supposed you were dreaming about me."

"I always dream about you."

"Well, that explains a lot." Edward grinned.

I gasped, and widened my eyes. Suddenly I was hyper aware again. "Oh, no! Oh, no, oh, no, no, no . . ."

"Bella, Bella! What's wrong?"

"I have dreams about having sex with you nearly every night!" I was panting heavily once again.

"I know."

"You know?!"

"Yes."

I didn't know what else to say. He didn't seem phased by this, but I knew inside, he was bubbling with chagrin like I was. I covered my mouth in disbelief, but soon moved it to my sweating forehead. I tried desperately to think of something to say back. "Edward, I . . . I am so sorry that I -"

"Sorry?" The single word held so much confusion, so much puzzlement that I had to turn and stare at him.

"Yes, I am sorry. Isn't that what you wanted to hear?" Edward snorted, and suddenly kissed my lips with some tempting ferocity. But I pushed him away. "Edward, this is serious!"

He chuckled. "Bella, I do dream about sex with you as well! All the time, all night! I always want to make love to you!" He shifted so that his fiery eyes were staring into the depths of mine. He cradled my face in his wet hands. "And I'm not ashamed of it."

I smiled, and kissed him. "So what did I say during that nightmare? I know I did a bit of thrashing around in my dream and here . . ." I surveyed the surrounding damage.

"Well, at first you didn't really say anything. I didn't know you were asleep until you suddenly yelled 'no' as loud as you possibly could. You started crying so violently, and I tried to wake you up without startling you. Then you screamed the word again, and started writhing about, crying. I had to wake you up; you were spilling the water and sure to alert someone of us. It seemed like a horrid dream. Why don't you tell me about it?"

And so I did. I told him all of the details of the horror and terror that had been coursing through me the whole time. When I began to tell him about his father crushing him like an insignificant bug, I stopped mid-sentence, and asked to change the topic. Edward understood.

He began to talk about our life in Orléans. He told me that he was going to buy us an enormous house, with a wonderful garden. He was going to hire maids for me, and tend to my every whim. When I protested, he shushed me, and told me wanted to do so for me.

He talked of children, and if we were ever going to have any. He discussed how many. He talked about what he would name each of them; he asked what names I liked. And soon enough, I was thinking more about children's names than about the awfully terrible dream.

After we were bathed, we climbed out of the tiny tub, and tiptoed back to the room. We dressed, he in his normal outfit, I in the dress I had been wearing before. He kissed me and told me loved me, and then leapt out of the window, back home. I waved to him, and watched him down.

I sighed. There was nothing to do, nothing to talk about, nothing to even _think_ about when he was not there.

I tried to use up all of my time; I brushed my hair and curled it to perfection. I organized my closet, and threw out some old things I hadn't worn in years. But I simply ran out of things to do.

So, like any bored girl would do, I ambled over to Alice's room.

It seemed she was busy rearranging her entire closet; she was throwing things into a wide bag that swallowed anything she dropped in. And she sure was dropping a lot in that thing.

I tapped her shoulder, which made her jump, and said between laughs, "Packing, Alice?"

She narrowed her eyes and scowled at me.

Her scowls were a funny thing. She pursed her lips, and her eyes visibly tightened. Her eyebrows lowered, and she reared her shoulders so that they were almost to her ears. She clenched her fists and gave a classic deaths stare. It was like staring as daggers were thrown at you.

Luckily, I was somewhat immune to this look, though it did shake me every so often. But, I would just grit my teeth, and glance away from her face as I said, "Sorry, Alice, sheesh."

She always knew that meant she had won. "So, what did ya need to scare me for this time?" she sassed.

I sighed, and fell onto her bed. "Boredom. Without Edward, everything is so dreary and dull around here."

"How're you escapin' doin' the shows?"

"I tell Charlie I'm too distressed over Carlisle. Whenever he reasons and says Carlisle is only sick, I slam my door and refuse to listen."

"I'm proud of you, ma girl." I laughed. Alice then changed the subject. "Look, if ya wants somethin' to do, go get me ma silver shoes with the blue bows. I left them near my dressin' room."

I nodded happily, and skipped down. When I got to the backstage room, no one was there. I was a bit worried at this, but retrieved Alice's shoes anyway, which were tucked away next to a makeup kit. I tried to get out of there as fast I could - it gave me the creeps when no one was there - but I heard someone call my name, and I stopped, dead in my tracks.

I turned; it felt like ice was flecking my back, for I could feel a stare holing into me, and someone was burning my forehead, the sweat too agonizingly uncomfortable to deal with.

A deadly, knowing voice from the shadows, ghosted to my ear; he said, "Why are you doing this, Bella?"

I gulped, and the sweat streamed out from every available pore. I knew that voice and was terrified to acknowledge it.

**CLIFFHANGER! Muwahaha, I am evil!**

**I haven't left you guys with a cliffhanger in a long time, so I thought I'd give it a shot; tell me who you think it is the reviews! It could be either of three people, I'll give that hint: Carlisle, Charlie, or Rosalie. WHO DO YOU THINK IT IS?! WELL, TELL ME, I'M INTERESTED!**

**I'm somewhat proud of myself; this chapter has been so much longer than my past ones xD**


	10. Knife

**See if you were right about the person from the curtain! Read it! And by the way, for everyone who gave their theories, thank you :) It was interesting to hear some suggestions, and if you hear one of your ideas in here, it means that it was really good. I'll post the honors in the A/N Chapter That Also Includes Translation chapter so you can be officially recognized and people will honor you for your brilliance!! :)**

"Bella? Oh, Bella?" the phantasmal voice called from the shadows of the stage curtains. It was inviting me to walk over there, into some kind of danger I'd yet to fathom or risk. But I did not move; my feet seemed almost to be nailed to the wooden floorboards that were caked with a disgusting gray dust and some sort of muddy dirt.

I was also absolutely - beyond measure even - petrified of the voice and that current situation. Cold perspiration slowly rolled down from my throbbing temples in steady streams that tingled my spine. I shivered, and goosebumps rose on my skin. My brain was like static, waiting for something to happen. I started gasping a bit, trying to breathe again. I'd never felt so cold in my life; I was usually hot, flaming; it was confusing, but I was honestly too terrorized to even move a muscle, let alone let my brain begin to work.

That cool voice, the way its almost ghostlike quality terrified me enough as well. But the way the sound seemed to wafted over to my ears like a delicious fragrance or a sort of odor was simply eery, and I wanted so badly to run away from it. I was scared.

The voice rose again from the deepest recesses of the stage's solemn shadows once more, haunting me. "Oh, come now, Bella, my dearest whore. Has _he_ turned you against me, too, now?"

I gasped, and my muddy brown eyes were widened. I suddenly had the power to move once more, or at least my neck. I turned, glared at the shadows the stranger was hiding behind. I knew whom he was talking about. I balled my hands into fists, and cried out as loud as I could, "Edward didn't turn me against anyone! He has nothing to do with this!"

Charlie emerged from the heady shadows. "Oh, but he has everything to do with this, Bella."

Once I saw him, my heart nearly stopped. I thought it had been Carlisle; I wasn't expecting Charlie, a longtime friend of mine. I didn't expect him to be this way if he ever found out about Edward either. He had been my keeper, my paternal

guidance. It was like finding out your best friend despised your parents beyond measure; it stung.

I gulped audibly, and my forehead was sweating once more. My skin was icy and like unsatiable blocks of chilled ice. "Charlie . . . ?" I asked in disbelief. But my voice soon trailed off.

"Yes, darling, it is I, Charlie; don't you remember me? I know I haven't seen you in ages, ducky. Now can we please discuss some things, you know, catch up? I seem awfully behind. You didn't bother explaining much to me, now did you?" He mocked me by pouting.

My mouth was dry; I didn't know what to say back to this man who had seemingly betrayed me. Charlie cocked his head to the side, still mocking, still waiting for an answer. When I didn't answer, he took a deep breath, and continued, "I honestly thought you were grief-stricken over Carlisle, _ma chérie_. Little did I know you were wasting my money with that boy, Edward. Do you know how much you've been costing me? How much money I have lost because the customer went home, for they knew you were not here time and time again? I've lowered prices, begged customers to take the others . . . It has truly been a living hell, an absolute nightmare for the business and your fellow prostitutes! And I've put myself and them through it just so you could play around in your bedroom all day with a sweet-talking, backstabbing child!"

I looked at my feet. Again, I didn't know what you say to him. His insults were jabs at my heart, but then I though about the fortune Charlie had given to me. I didn't know which way to turn, or what to say, so I blurted out, "Charlie, I wasn't thinking, I didn't -"

"_Enough_!"

I cowered when he screamed that one single word at me; I clamped my eyes shut, and arched my back slightly, tucking myself in. My hands clenched, and my feet were ready if I needed to run from him. When nothing happened, and I opened my eyes enough to see st least what was in front of me, Charlie stepped forward swiftly, so he was facing me head-on, and slapped me right across the face, in a perfect diagonal shape.

My head sharply crooked to the side from the impact, almost snapping my neck, for I heard an awfully loud _crack_. My cheek was throbbing menacingly, and curls were in my face. I slowly brought my face back to stare at him. I rubbed the raw cheek that he had smacked, but did not remove the strands of curly hair that had flown over my face.

"Enough of this, Bella. You are the Queen of Whores, remember? You don't believe in that, you want many men, don't you remember? One man is not enough for you. It never has been. Why have you suddenly decided to change to another absurd coarse?" His voice was softer now, much more gentle, as he was really trying to persuade me.

The tears were forming little bubbles on the edges of my vision that made everything blurry. "Charlie, please . . ." I whimpered. I slumped to the ground, Charlie standing over me.

"You can't do this, Bella. You are a showgirl; you sell your love. You don't give it away."

Tears lipped over the edge of my eyes, and spilled across my cheeks like paint across a canvas. "But . . ." I whimpered. I wanted to protest, to reason, but I felt like I didn't have any strength left to do it.

"There aren't any buts, my love. We are creatures of the underworld; we can't afford to love, cherub."

My body was trembling. I didn't know what to do, except stay slumped to the ground, and cry. And that's what I did.

I cried for a long time. Charlie merely watched, a bit of paternal compassion flickered in his eyes, threatening to break loose into words, but he kept his mouth tightly shut in a hard line. But he did let me cry. He did not try to console or stop it. He let me cry.

I laid to the floor now. My curls splayed themselves all about the floor, gathering dust and dirt, but I didn't move. My hands were flat on the wood, my elbows raising me up so as my face would not touch the dirty old floorboards. Not that I cared too much anymore.

It was a while before I stopped crying. Every bit of love I'd ever felt for Edward was flowing through me like a river, but the feelings that Charlie seemed to have forced into me were also battling it. So far, neither was winning. They just enjoyed watching me suffer.

And suffering seemed an inevitable thing in my life now. I'd taken an agonizing path. I'd known it some time in the back of my head that this path would eventually lead to torture and agony though. While it brought the love of my life to me, it also brought the pain and the suffering that accompanied any wrongdoing in the eyes of the leader. And love was deemed the most forbidden, detrimental sort of misconduct in Charlie's book.

But love was so sweet . . . why did such anguish and pungence have to follow such a beautiful thing, a miracle? It seemed too much juxtaposition, and I especially could not bare it.

And so, like most things, a realization hit me like a brick square in the face. If I was to keep love without the torment, I would have to fight for. Like all good things in life, I needed to fight. It was a necessity for the first good thing in my life to even begin to thrive.

As this sudden realization took me, I glared at Charlie, still laying on the musty floor.

And then, it was the oddest thing I'd even experienced in my lifetime . . . I was so suddenly overtook by some kind of rage; a rage I had never felt before, all sparked because of his blatant pleading and his insults at Edward. I scowled at Charlie scornfully, and I felt tears coming. I threw Alice's shoes down with a frustrated little sigh that also sounded like a grunt or a hiss. I began to walk to my dressing table. I grabbed all of my makeup and all of my jewelry. I wasn't going to take it before then, but this rage convinced me to do it. Charlie hissed - an obvious contrast from his previous innocent demeanor - as I grabbed everything in sight, "What are you doing?"

My eyes were swimming, but not crying. They refused to let themselves go, to fall and make their sad little trails, for they knew that I knew that that meant I would be giving up. Giving up on Edward. Giving up on me. Giving up on love, and everything that had come with it.

I clenched my teeth, and stared at Charlie for a long time before slamming the jewelry down and screaming at him, red faced, "I don't need you!"

Charlie narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing, Bella? You know you don't want to do this."

I pursed my lips, the tears forming around my eyes, and my hands flew down to my sides as I explained to Charlie emphatically, "All my life you only made me believe I was worth what someone would _pay_ for me!" He continued to stare. "But, Edward loves me. He loves me, Charlie. _He loves me_! And that is worth everything. We're going away from _you_, away from _Carlisle_, away from the Black Snake! Goodbye, Charlie."

And then I felt it; it was strong, powerful. It swelled my heart and convinced me that I was truly invincible. I felt so incredible, like I could do anything at all, anything I wanted to do. It was a feeling I'd never really experienced before in my lifetime: victory.

And I proposed to stay with that feeling, and do what I wanted to do, which was run away from Charlie and the Black Snake; I then slung my bag of jewelry and makeup over my shoulder, smiled evilly, and proceeded to stomp out of the door, victorious.

In a confusing swiftness I hadn't known Charlie to be capable of, he was standing behind me, his arm dangerously positioned over the front of my neck. I was shocked and frightened; the victorious feeling that had lasted only moments had drained away completely.

But that was what battles were like, I then supposed to myself, panting and sweating in fright.

"Oh, no, no, no, where do you think you are going, Miss Bella?" Charlie whispered in my ear. His other hand was fumbling for something in his pocket. I didn't want to see what it was.

"Charlie, please," I choked out; my voice sounded strange when it was so stressed. "Please, let me go."

He laughed loudly, sinisterly. I gave into a tremor when it resounded in my ear. I tried to be still though. "Oh, precious Bella, I have but one request for you. See, I have a business to run, and a man to sell you too . . . do you see where all of this is going, _ma chérie_?"

I gasped, but the air was caught in my throat caused by Charlie's limiting arm. I coughed and spluttered, but Charlie chuckled darkly. His menacing demeanor caused me to tremble again.

Finally, from his pocket he drew a small dagger. It glinted in the dashing light from the only window in the backstage area. It was sundown. Edward was going to be here soon, wondering where I was. Charlie also had a knife, a sharp blade that looked like it had never been used for. I gasped, and it got stuck of course, but Charlie made no movements. Only stared at the dagger in the sparkling, yet feeble sunlight. I tripped, trying to move, and his arm tightened. He did not look at me, but merely said, "I wouldn't try any of those moves now, dear. I think things are going to start going my way."

I continued to marvel at the shining knife, taunting me.

From the distance, I heard someone's shoes tapping on the dusty floorboards, somewhat far away.

I gulped, and prayed it was neither Edward nor Alice as I accepted my ugly fate here with Charlie.

**ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER! BAM!**

**It was short . . . but it had to be :( Sorry!!!**

**Review.**


	11. Explained

**Hello, world! Sorry I've been gone for a long time, but I've mostly been planning out my epic ending and writing a few things down for it and stuff. I've also had a dreadful week. Anyway, hopefully I can make my ending come alive. That's been my main concern with it, and I don't really know if I can do it. So, if you guys would, please tell me if I've been doing an a good or okay job of making the story pop at all in the reviews. It's really my only worry while writing, and I'd really, REALLY appreciate the feedback, guys! Thank you so much to those who do in advance!**

"_Please_, Charlie!" I yelled. Tears were coming fast and hard.

Charlie clicked his tongue. He said plainly, "Bella, dear, please relax. I'll have no use for this knife if you do as I ask."

My cheeks were already stained with tears, and my sobs were wretched. I tried my best to pull myself together, but so many things ran through my mind then that prevented me from even attempting. Finally, I whispered, agony rising in my throat, "What do you want?"

I knew he was smirking. "Carlisle hasn't boughten you yet because you haven't slept with him again; he's sure you buy you soon though, if you sleep with him tonight."

I gasped, and shook my head slowly, gulping down needed air. I then said between two sobs, "No."

"I'm sorry, Bella; it has to be this way." His voice sounded genuinely sympathetic, but I did not look at him.

I buried my face in my palms. It had to be this way. Charlie would kill me if I didn't choose his path. And if I died . . . I could only imagine what that would do to Edward. What it would do to Alice. I cringed at those thoughts, and I knew that I couldn't do that to them. They had helped me, and they had loved me. The least I could do to them was lay the most marginal amount of pain on them as I could. I would be more perturbing if I died instead of denying them both, and continue on with my former life of sleeping with an old man.

I was very quiet for a few moments. I subsequently noticed that the footsteps I had first heard had stopped. I listened harder: I could not hear them. I looked around briefly, but saw from my peripheral vision a girl. A girl with long blonde hair cascading down her back.

I tried to twist my whole self around to see the girl in the doorway, but Charlie would not allow me. He instead turned both of us. We both gasped simultaneously when we saw the appalled eyes and ajar mouth on the face of Charlie's most beautiful cocotte, Rosalie.

Her stance was awkward; her legs were spread apart, as if she had been walking, and paused, not bothering to move her position. Her eyes were wide and she looked frozen.

Charlie was frozen as well. He did not move. Rosalie stared into his face, shocked, for a long time; I could only assume Charlie was staring back just as steadily. I stared at Rosalie as well, though she obviously had her eyes dead set on Charlie.

After the long moments of fixated eyes, Rosalie's expression changed to anger, and Charlie flinched. Rosalie's mouth puckered into a hard line, and her eyes blazed with fire. She snapped her legs so they were beside each other, and placed a hand on her hip.

"What are you _doing_?" she hissed at Charlie. I was slightly surprised at this; I didn't think her voice would have so much anger in them for Charlie instead of the usual apathy.

"What does it concern you for?" Charlie hissed back. I imagined him sneering at her.

"You have a _knife_."

"Why does that matter to you? /"

"_C'est un couteau, Charlie, un couteau fichu_! Why the hell are you threatening Bella? _Pourquoi_!?"

"You're right, Rosalie, it doesn't concern you. One bit. Now, why don't you leave? Run along and play with your makeup? Sit around and stare at yourself in the mirror!" As Charlie said these unfair words, I could see Rosalie's face slowly melt into horror and sadness. She was hurt by these words. "Go on then! Stare at yourself._ Soyez juste vous: une salope égocentrique._"

After the last counter, Rosalie's expression became a strange, twisted mixture between anger and insult. She looked so sad and dismayed at Charlie's stinging verbal abuse, but so angry at them as well. I was interested and frightened to see what would be next.

Silence.

Then the explosion.

"Shut up!" she screamed. Her face was red with wrath. "_Shut up_! You don't know what you're saying! You're a foul man, a foul pimp! You don't understand anything but money and _girls_! You don't understand happiness, or love, or friendship. And it's sad. You'll burn in hell, and the funny thing is that deserve it. You deserve everything you're going to get for being the horrible man that you are! And you deserve your loneliness. You deserve _every bit_ of that. You are scummy and foul._ Permettez maintenant à Bella d'aller._"

Then there was a long pause. Things were very still. The floating dust was even hesitating. It seemed as though the room was holding its breath. My own eyes were broad with surprise and admiration. Rosalie had pursed lips, and her chest rose as she panting through her nose. I could assume Charlie's face either stunned, hurt, or angry. Charlie and Rosalie stared each other down as my eyes flitted from one to the other.

A sudden admiration sailed over me for Rosalie, as well as a realization. Everyone in the cathouse classified her as a bitch and self-centered because she spent most of her time to herself, and didn't much care for anyone else in the whorehouse. But it then struck me that perhaps there was a reason behind all of this. A reason Rosalie had been too frightened to tell or reveal to anyone because perhaps it frightened even herself.

I looked down, my lips trembling solemnly, and was then suddenly so very sickened by my own self when I realized how cruel I had been to such a misunderstood soul.

"_Let her go_!" Rosalie screamed at Charlie again, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Charlie released me of his firm grip, something I hadn't been expecting, and placed the knife into his pocket again. I scurried over to Rosalie, and almost hid behind her. I tried to divert Charlie's eyes by looking at my feet, as Rosalie finished by saying, "You aren't even worth Bella. She should be somewhere else, living a happy life, without you. She deserves more than this._ Tellement plus_! She deserves _real_ love. Now, don't you _dare_ try that again on her."

Rosalie then turned on her heel, her sparkling blonde hair whipping back at him, and stomped out. She clutched at my arm, forcing me to follow, as she turned to leave Charlie.

Rosalie didn't say anything as she stamped down the hallway as I desperately tried to keep up by scampering behind her.

When we got to an unfamiliar door, she yanked the door open, seized my arm again, and pulled me into the cramped room. I assumed it was a closet, for it had broom and mop sitting in it.

There was barely enough light to see Rosalie. And there was barely enough room, so our bodies were almost pressed together, the gap between them minuscule. The air was musty and heavy. It was hard to breathe.

Rosalie began talking into the moldy air almost as soon as she shut the door behind us. She hissed, "Don't speak of this to anyone. If you do, I'll find you, and tell your secret to Carlisle."

I gasped. "You know?" I whispered.

"Yes." I blushed. "I saw you come out of the bathroom with Edward this morning. I only assumed you weren't supposed to be with him because word passed around Carlisle forbade his son from coming here."

I nodded. I was intimidated and somewhat frightened, but I ask Rosalie in a low tone anyway, "Why did you defend me, and tell Charlie to let me go? You don't like me, I stole your title -"

Rosalie placed her hand over my mouth. "Listen here, Bella: I _didn't_ do anything. I _don't_ care. I _do_ still hate you. And I was simply a_ witness_ of you saving yourself. Understand?"

She let her hand drop to her side silently, and then crossed them over her chest. I shook my head, and my eyebrows inched down my forehead in perplexity. "No, I-I don't understand, Rosalie."

There was a stale silence. I waited for her to answer. She waited for me to drop the subject.

It was a nagging feeling, to want to know the secret that even kept Rosalie from showing any signs of friendliness to others. What had happened to her that made her so incompatible?

The silence was filled with my stubbornness and persistence to know her strange, limiting secret. Eventually, it was too much to bear in quiet, and Rosalie gave into it, and hissed, "Fine!"

"You'll tell me?"

"Yes!"

"Fine. Go ahead."

Rosalie took in a deep breath. She untwined her arms, and shook them, trying to shake the jitters probably. I presumed this was the first time she was telling anyone the secret. It was normal to be nervous, I suppose, and I did not try to rush her. She would tell me when she was ready.

Her voice was wobbly and unsteady at first. But as she continued on more into her story, her voice became more at ease, as if she was finally comfortable with someone else for the first time.

"So . . . So you know that I'm not the most open or friendly person in this whorehouse. And you know that I'm not particularly fond of you because I use to be the star that everyone wanted, and you replaced me. But you don't know the reason. And up until just now, you hadn't known there had even been a reason. You, as well as everyone else here, though I was just catty and egotistical. And I accepted that because I knew I couldn't change.

"Believe it or not, but I was never pretty as a child. Everyone, including myself, always found me to be ugly. I had blemishes, and greasy hair, and I spoke with a lisp . . . all things that children could make fun of easily, growing up. All through my childhood I was poked fun at for my appearance. And I can never forget those painful years.

"But the most horrible thing was my parents. They never loved me in the way that I always envied other children. In fact, I don't think they loved me at all. They were silent to me; they never talked. They preferred my older sisters, the beautiful ones. They didn't have any defaces on their faces, or greasy hair, or lisps. They were so attractive and always had a boy wooing them. And I was always jealous, always envious of the attention they received from my parents and attractive boys just because they were as perfect as perfect can be. They had everything, a beautiful face and smile, wonderful clothing, a charming personality that people instantly fell in love with, an adorable sense of humor . . . everything. It was never fair. It always hurt so much too. I wanted some attention, some admiration. I wanted love too, but no one wanted to give it to me because I was ugly.

"Even though around the time I had turned fifteen my blemishes and lisp had disappeared, still no one wanted because I was always a slob because I was so lonely and depressed. I often contemplated suicide, and if anyone would even care. My parents barely spoke to me, and the only time I saw their face was when they sent meals up to me.

"No suitors had contacted my parents by the time I was sixteen - my sisters having instant suitors when they were as young as thirteen - and my parents, so they kicked me out of the house. They told me I could not return until I was beautiful, married, had beautiful children, and were as, if not more prosperous than my older sisters. They then confided to me as I stood on their front step ready to go, that they would subsequently love me."

Even in the dark, I knew tears were sliding down Rosalie's face. She paused and sobbed quietly, I could just barely hear them. I let her cry. I didn't force her to continue. I let her take in the emotions of her childhood that she most likely been dodging for many years.

She sucked in a long breath, and continued, her voice cracked and scratchy with the fresh tears, "I hadn't anywhere to go. I didn't have a job. I didn't have any skills worth being paid for. I was all alone in Paris; all I had was one dress, a piece of bread, and a suitcase to keep them in.

"I wandered aimlessly all day. I barely remember it; it was so blurry with tears and confusion. People bumped into me, but I didn't feel it. People yelled at me, but I didn't hear them. I was unaware and unsure. It was like being in an alternate universe, one that I did not understand. Things were so very different to me, wherever the hell I was.

"I finally stumbled across a place I could at least say for that first night: a bar. I'd heard many of my parents' or sisters' friends talk about good times at bars. I was hoping for one as well.

"I floated in. I plopped down on a barstool, and dropped my suitcase down beside me. I propped my elbows up on the bar, and rested my face in my hands. A bartender came up to me, and asked me what I wanted. I told him I'd never been in a bar. He asked me how strongly I wanted my drink. I told him I wanted the strongest drink they sold, not even caring that I didn't have any money in my pocket. I just wanted to be so drunk that I killed myself. I'd heard of it many times, and I figured it was the best way to go. Being killed off of too much alcohol was the main reason I was there, I suppose.

"He brought me Absinthe. I drank it thirstily. As I gulped it down, the bartender told me I looked horrible. I told him I agreed between large swigs. He didn't say much more to me other than there was a girls' bathroom in the back, and he would keep a cot for me. He had a feeling that I would need it that night. I barely heard most of this.

"After so many glasses of Absinthe, I started to feel much better. I felt light, and happy. It was the first time I had felt those ways in such a long time. I can't even recall a time I was happy before that. As I poured more Absinthe down my throat, the happier I became. I wanted more happiness, more lightness, and my death, so I just kept it coming.

"Soon enough, someone came to sit beside me. I don't remember his face, but I remembered his name: Royce. That foul, sick name clenches my stomach even to this day. Though his face is shady in my memory, it sends shivers down my spine. But that name makes me so angry, so frightened, and so vengeful, that I barely recognize myself.

"He asked me my name. I told him my name was Rosalie between slurs. He told me his name. And then we started talking.

"'I think you're mighty beautiful, Rosalie,' he told me after a few conversations of my slur.

"'That's a lie!' I exclaimed. 'No one thinks _I'm_ beautiful!' Imagine me saying all of this as if I had stuck two large apples in both my cheeks. That's how slurred and drunken I was.

"'Oh, but I think you are just the most beautiful dame I'd ever done see,' he continued.

"'Lies!' I yelled at him.

"And then he whispered the most vile, excruciating words I can remember in my life into my ear: 'I want to show you something.'

"You think those words are innocent. But no, those words are the most foul, abhorrent words ever spoken to me. They haunt me. I will never forget them. They are sickening!

"So Royce dragged me into the backroom that had the cots. He started to kiss me. Even in my drunken state, I was bit alarmed at this, for I had never kissed anyone, and I knew kissing was only for when two people loved each other. I did not love Royce. I didn't even like him. But he was kissing me. And I figured that I didn't care about myself enough to make him stop. So I kissed him back. I kissed his face, his neck, his everything. I didn't care.

"Soon enough, we had sex. I knew we weren't supposed to, but again, I didn't care. I thought to myself, 'Why not? You're going to kill yourself soon enough, why not have a romp before it?'

"When it was over, he pulled out a knife. He held me like Charlie had held you. Suddenly, I was frightened and confused. I knew I wanted to die, but not this way. Knives had always held a permanent fear within me, I wanted to die, yes, but not that way. Definitely not that way. But I remember thinking that that was what Royce had in mind.

"So I pled. 'Please, Royce, no!' I whimpered.

"'Shut up!' he yelled at me. His voice was rough and uncaring.

"'Please don't kill me like this! I don't mind dying, really, I don't, but please not this way, _please_!'

"'I said shut up! Look, I ain't gonna kill you if you cooperate, okay? If you don't cooperate, it's the knife, sweetheart, don't gotta another choice. You got that, huh, baby?' I nodded. 'Good. We understand this.'

"'What do you want me to do? I'll do anything! Anything -"

"'Shut _up_!' He slit my wrist and I screamed."

Rosalie paused. She took my hand, and grazed it over her wrist; I felt raised skin, and I knew it was the scar Royce had given her than dreadful night. I gulped. Rosalie continued, "He told me he was going to sell me into prostitution. He said he needed the money, and I was the kind of girl pimps were looking for. He said pimps would pay high money for me. I had no other choice but to agree to Royce's confusing plan about me and this prostitution business, something I had never heard of up until then.

"So the next day, he woke me up by yanking my hair. I remember the pain. That pain brought back the memories of that terrifying night. Royce brought me to all of the whorehouses here in Paris, looking for the best offer. He was disappointed, and took it out on me by beating me in an alley once. We were about to go back to the bar, a threat in place, when Charlie came up to us. He asked Royce if I was for sale. Royce said yes. Charlie gave him an offer he couldn't refuse. Charlie took me to the Black Snake that night.

"Originally, I was only terrified. I didn't know where I was or even why. I was hung-over, disorientated, and scared. Charlie explained everything though. And I was astounded, for he was the first person to ever speak kindly to me. There wasn't an underlay of some evil intent or hate, but genuine kindness. I was confused by it, but also so thankful.

"He offered me a room, and beautiful things. He told me men would give me more beautiful things if I slept with them. At first, I was hesitant. I remembered sleeping with Royce, and the consequences. But Charlie promised no one would ever do that to me as long as I was at the Black Snake. Again, I was astonished at the protection for me in his voice.

"So, I accepted. He and Esme made me beautiful. I was stunned. I couldn't stop looking in the mirror. I looked just like my sisters, and I wondered what my parents would have said if they could see me as beautifully as I was then. But then I became enraged, and pushed them out of my head.

"Soon enough, I became absorbed with my transformed appearance. I didn't want to really do much else except marvel at _me_. I didn't talk to anyone, and the only time I looked at them was to make sure they didn't look better than I. I was finally beautiful, something I had never been before, and I didn't want someone overshadowing me with their beauty.

"Soon, it became a habit for me to stare at myself in the mirror. It was addictive. I needed to look at myself, or I'd explode. I would go on a rampage. I needed a mirror; I needed to be beautiful. It was an addiction. And, as a result, I was dubbed as egotistical and selfish.

"And then you came into the picture. They replaced me with you because you were more beautiful. You were younger, prettier! That's why I hated you, and ignored you. Do you understand it? Do you understand it now, Bella? Please, understand! I can't help the horrible thing I've turned into. It's a dependency, a sad, lowly one that I so wish to get out of, but I can't. I'm stuck this way, fearing people, and needing to be better. And I'm sorry."

She started sobbing. I hugged her, and she buried her wet face into my chest. "No. I'm sorry, Rosalie. I'm sorry for everyone in the whorehouse, including me, because we don't understand."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she squeaked between sobs.

It was a long time before she stopped crying. I didn't mind. I understood that she needed to let it all out, and I wanted to be there for it. She deserved someone to hear all of it.

After the pause, Rosalie lifted her head, and I dropped my arms. The wetness her tears had caused her cheeks shone in the darkness. She croaked almost inaudibly, "What are you going to do, Bella?"

Suddenly, everything had shifted to me, and I felt it on my shoulders. I knew what she was talking about. I didn't know how to answer, so I left her with an, "I don't know." My voice was low and much like Rosalie's. I didn't want to think of it, but I had to.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"You really love him. I know it. I can feel it."

"I do. I've never loved anything before. Edward is my first love, and I will always love him."

"But you have to be apart from him."

"I know."

**I don't really like writing stories within stories very much . . . next chapter with Esme (SPOILER) won't have such a long, weird, complicated story within it again. Promise.**

**I tried to write Rosalie's story in THIS so it would be similar to the one in the book. Hopefully achieved.**

**I don't really know WHY, but I had an urge to write about Rosalie. Maybe it was because I had developed her character beyond what she really was like most fanfiction authors do. Maybe it was because I still believe Rosalie is just misunderstood, and that other people don't understand that. Or maybe it was simply because she's a character that fascinates me. I don't know. Any of the reasons could totally be legit. Also, I think all of those reasons are true. But it doesn't matter I suppose, because I got to write about Rosalie, and the nagging went away. I got another chapter in. And you people/readers sure updated and hopefully happy. Win/win!**

**REVIEW, ADIOS!!**

**PS, don't forget to tell me if I do a good job of bringing the story to life. I really need to know :) Thanks!**


	12. Surprise

**Wow. That was fast. I finished two chapters in one night, and they're both important for the future! :O**

Rosalie and I managed to sneak out of the closet, undetected. We didn't say anything when we went our separate ways to our rooms. But I knew the wound between us was healed. I didn't need her to tell me that, and she didn't need me to tell her that. We knew.

When I got back to my room, I noticed there was both a folded note on my bed and the sun was sinking rapidly. I decided to dwell on the note first instead of the abhorrent sunset.

Though it was unsigned, I knew the note was from Charlie by the handwriting and simple, devastating message. It read . . .

**Bella,**

**Carlisle Cullen will be coming to you tomorrow night at eight o'clock. He's made a full recovery and is just dying to see you. Dump the boy tonight. If I don't see him leaving your window before midnight, I'll come up and slit both your throats.**

My lips trembled. I smashed the paper together, crinkling it up, and then hurled the balled up paper against the wall. I sank down to my knees. I knew I was going to cry, so I did not fight it.

This was stupid. I should be allowed to go off, allowed to live my life with my only love, Edward, instead of his father. I was dreading the two nights ahead of me. I couldn't lie to Edward about not loving him, and I couldn't sleep with Carlisle. I just couldn't do either.

After a long moment of doing nothing but staring at the wall, not even thinking about the upcoming two nights of torture, there was a knock. I was surprised but then figured it was Alice. I said come in.

Who was in the doorway but Esme. It was a surprisal to see her there, looking downward and nervous that she here. Esme almost never came to others' rooms, and I usually only saw her backstage. We were both silent for a while before she came in and sat on my sofa. She still did not say anything though, and strived to make minimum eye contact.

So I said the first words. They were confused and spoken without think really. "Why are you . . . here?" I asked.

Esme clicked her tongue, and searched for the right thing to say, still not looking at me. "Well, I, uh, I wanted to tell you something I think you merit to know. Something you may be interested in as well."

I gave her a look that let her know she could tell me.

"I know about you and Edward. I've known ever since Charlie figured it out. But that's not what I'm here to tell you, but I needed to tell you that first, or what I really need to tell you won't make much sense. Do you understand that, or was it just rubbish?" She gave a dainty laugh. I shrugged my shoulders apathetically, and she sighed quietly.

Another long pause. _Another_ hesitation. And I was sick of them. It may have been the indifferent mood I was in or just pent-up anger, but I yelled out to no one in particular suddenly, "_Why are there so many long silences or pauses?! I am so sick of the damn hesitation_!"

Esme's mouth gaped. I fumed. She stumbled around to try to end the silence. She finally spit out rather awkwardly, as if she couldn't find another way to phrase it, "I am Edward's mother."

I didn't really leave much time for another damn long pause after she said that. "_What_?!" I yelled at her.

"Bella, calm down!" Esme pleaded.

"_What_?!"

"Bella, please!"

"_What_?! What is it? What do you mean you're his mother? Does he know? Why are you telling me this? What the -"

Esme clamped her hand over my mouth. "Can I explain, please?" I nodded. "Thank you."

She cleared her throat, and I raised my eyebrows as if to say, "Just say it!" So she scowled at me, and began, "Well, I don't really want to talk about it, but it was my last night with Carlisle. He got me pregnant, and when I told him, he left me flat on my behind. Charlie said he would keep me, but I would not be a prostitute anymore. When I had the baby, I didn't want it, so Charlie gave it to Carlisle, who reluctantly accepted it."

I nodded. I was sort of in shock. "Oh."

"Yes. He was a beautiful baby. He was round, rosy cheeks, and some scanty strands of bronze hair. His eyes were the same piercing green. They were strange because they always looked so wise beyond his years. It was astounding to look into a baby's eyes like Edward's and feel like he knew what you were feeling or understood what you were saying. It was the oddest thing, but one of the things I admired most."

"Why did you not want him?"

Esme paused, and narrowed my eyes at her. She pursed her lips, and said, "Because I was scared. I didn't want to take care of a baby! I was a young little harlot who had never had any sort of intention of starting a family. I didn't want a baby, no matter how beautiful or knowing or unique it was. In truth, I wasn't ready more than anything."

Things seemed to be traveling at the speed of light. I left no time for silences between my questions. "Does Edward know about any of this? Has Carlisle ever told him anything?"

"No. We said we were going to keep it confidential. We were going to say Carlisle had married his childhood love who then died in a fire."

"Well why _not_?"

"We didn't want him to be ashamed that he was an accident. Who was reluctantly taken in by his father. Whose mother was merely a cancan dancer at the notorious Black Snake."

"Well he has a right to -"

"Yes, but it would be better if it was just a secret between Carlisle and me. He doesn't _need_ to know."

"Well why the hell are you telling _me_ then?"

"Because I just think you ought to know it, Bella! You call me your _mère_! I figured you ought to know you're makeshift _mère_ is the actually the biological _mère_ of your lover."

"And your biological son, Edward, ought _not_ to know his own mother? But his lover should?"

"Look, I feel closer to you. I can tell you. I don't think I can tell him because that night when you met Edward for the first time was the first time I'd seen him since he was a month old. I can't tell him. I barely know him. I love him, but I don't know him anymore."

"If you love him, you should be able to talk to him. If you really love your son, it should be sort of easy."

"Bella, I really do love him. It's true. I love him to death, but I barely know him. That's a mother's curse, no matter how little you know of your child, or how many years you haven't seen him, or even if he doesn't know your name. I love that boy because he's my son. But I don't want to talk to him! I can't just look him in the face and tell him that I'm his mother."

"You should."

"But I can't."

I sighed. "I love him, Esme."

She smiled warmly. "I know," she whispered. "I haven't seen you two together, but I know. You radiate it. It's so obvious when you finally figure it all out. You love him as much as anyone has loved anyone else. And I know Edward loves you back."

"I have to tell him I don't."

Esme pulled him into her arms, and rubbed my back. I was always comforted by her. "Oh, Bella, I know. I'm so sorry. It's a torture no one should go through. I know you love him and that he loves you. And I'm so sorry you have to end that for a scummy old man."

"I don't want to."

"I know. I'm sorry for that too. And please don't try anything stupid tonight, okay? Like running away. Charlie and Carlisle will find you two, no matter where you hide. And when they do, they won't hesitate to kill you both. And how sad that would be for me; a biological _mère_ to Edward and improvised _mère_ to you. I would lose my two children."

"So what am I going to _do_?"

"Do what's right for the both of you: go along with it. Tell Edward the lie. It will keep you both alive, which is worse than being apart. You'll always love each other, and as long as you know it, he will."

"How?"

"Well, you obviously can't show him because Carlisle will murder you if you do, but he'll know. And you'll know that he knows. That's just something about being in love."

"How do you know this?"

"Well, you can believe it or not, but I was in love with Carlisle for a while. It ended when I realized what kind of man he was when he left me because I told him I had his child. I thought that he would invite me to live with him, and he'd tell me he loved me, and we'd live happily ever after, everyone's dream. In my eyes, he was the perfect man: heroic, good-looking, a good lover, and valiant. But when he said goodbye, the lights came on, and I saw him for what he really was: arrogant, selfish, and heartless. And then he was nothing to me."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's nothing to be sorry over. I'd rather not be in love at all than to be in love with a man like Carlisle."

"I agree."

Esme laughed.

"So tonight's the night then? You have to tell my son that you don't actually love him tonight?" I nodded. "I am so sorry, _ma petite fleur_. Love can be a tragic thing, no?"

I sighed. "It is. It's so beautiful, but pain dovetails it the whole time. There's no shaking it."

"So wise, aren't you? That's certainly correct. There isn't anything in this world that can reduce us to tears but also bring us a euphoria so unlike any other we've experienced at the same time. Love is a splendid thing; it lifts us up, and helps us fly. It's the only thing we need really. But it's also a devil's tool; it can turn on you in a second, leaving you tempest-tossed and begging for mercy. There's nothing else like it in the world."

I nodded again, and Esme pulled me closer, tightening her grip on me, hugging me tighter. I basked in the warmth and motherliness that beamed from her like rays from the sun.

"Esme, you'll always be my mother. Even though you loved Carlisle and my lover and fiancee is your son."

She laughed. "Your fiancee, huh?"

"Yes. He proposed to me. We had a plan to run away together a while ago, and he promised we'd be wed when we had left. He told me he loved me more than anything, and that's why he proposed."

"That's probably true."

"I told him yes. Look at the ring."

I showed her the ring. She gasped when she saw it. "How beautiful . . ." she remarked, her voice trailing off.

"Yes. I told him it was too beautiful."

"It looks lovely on you. Like it was always meant to be there, sitting on your ring finger."

"Yes. Edward said that. He mine as well eat those words now though. I have to tell him that I don't _love_ him in a few hours, and before midnight. If I don't, Charlie, is going to come up here and slit both our throats. He told me in the letter he left for me here."

"I'm sorry, Bella."

I sighed. Esme could apologize all she wanted, but it wasn't going to fix anything. I could beg all I wanted, but it was going to fix anything either. It was going to happen, and I couldn't help it. I buried my face into Esme's shoulder. I had to do this.

'**Nother shortie. But I think it was sentimental! And don't worry, it'll be important later xD**


	13. Before the Storm

**Sorry it's been a while. I have a ton going on; don't expect regular postings with the schedule I'VE got now.**

Esme had left. I was alone in my room.

Just alone with my thoughts.

My damn thoughts!

And my feelings. I can't forget the damn feelings that betrayed me on the daily basis.

And how those feelings and thoughts were torturing me. Torturing me like a prisoner of war. I was so miserable when it was just me and them, left alone to fight it out together.

A blessing disguised as curse, I heard the usual tap on the window. I remembered a time when that use to excite me, fill me with passion . . . but now it was menacing, almost frightening.

My fingers shook and my knuckles were bone-white as I opened the window for Edward.

He leapt in and immediately read my expression. I could only imagine what it looked like. "What's wrong, Bella? You look upset . . . is there anything troubling you?" he asked, concerned.

I shook my head, a bit too overzealous. "No, no, no . . . nothing is wrong, I'm fine what would make you think I wasn't fine?" I raced.

"I can read you like a book, Bella; what's worrying you? I know there has to be something -"

"No. There's nothing." My voice was an octave higher than usual due to the sudden panic I was feeling. I didn't want him to know; yet he was pressing me to tell him, and I couldn't. I sighed. "Really, Edward, everything is fine. I'm just a little jittery because we're r-running away so soon. Why don't we just get to it then? I'd rather get it over and done with."

Edward smirked crookedly. He remembered when he himself had said that to me the first night we were together. I didn't return the smile, but instead pressed his lips to mine.

What was I doing? I was sleeping with Edward when I should have been telling him I didn't love him. I was being horrid. But I wanted him so badly, a need burning passionate holes in the inside of my thighs . . . was this my body's way of telling my mind that I should savor this night before I had to unjustly leave him? I contemplated this for a moment before concluding I should just do it. At least he would have this last night to remember me by when I was off living with his father somewhere else.

I then promised to myself and to Edward in secret that this would be the best night of both our lives.

We dropped down on my bed, lips attached, like a brick. I was on top, but Edward soon changed that. He rolled us around so that I was on my back, but Edward was instead bent over me, kissing. I put my hand on his shoulder. He hitched my leg up on his hip and kissed he harder.

I was being too tense. I knew that I was coming across stiff and nervous to Edward, something I did not want to do for fear that he go back to guessing what was troubling me.

So, I tried my best to relax. I pretended as though this was just a normal night with Edward. I assured myself that we loved each other, and nothing could stand in its way, something I would have believed if it weren't for recent events. I continued to run the words "We love each other" through my mind, and soon enough, I began to ease into it again. I began to kissed Edward like I always did. I twisted my fingers through his hair, and stroked his skin. Not before long, I had forgotten all about my dark deed.

Then something occurred to me. Something so seductive, so devilish, that it could only be done and remembered as part of the best night of both our lives. So, I asked it in the most attractive way possible: "Hey, Edward . . . can I give you a massage?" I grinned behind his lips.

My voice had sounded impossibly steamy and alluring; it wasn't potential that Edward would even think to resist.

But he raised an eyebrow . . . and then smiled, catching my drift. "Sounds nice," he replied, mirroring my grin.

I pointed to the bed. He laid down on the bed on his stomach, folding his arms under his chin. I crossed my arms and pretended to pout. "Edward! You need to take your shirt off if we're going to do this right!" He narrowed his eyes as if it was completely absurd. But I saw the playful sparks in his eyes. "It's so much easier if you just take the damn shirt off, Edward! It's not like you need to take your pants off or anything."

He sighs, and slowly removes his white T-shirt; just watching him do that got me as moist as needed. He looked at me, and raised his eyebrows, anticipative. "There. Happy?"

"Yes; now lie back down!" Edward did as he was told. I smoothed my hands over his back, and began to move in short, small circles, and then progressed into longer, wider arcs, while occasionally pressing my palms into his cool skin. "How does that feel?"

He closed his eyes, and hummed, "Very nice."

I moved down to his lower back, and repeated the same motions, the same relaxing circles. "Now?"

"Wonderful." He sounded so relaxed. _Perfect_, I thought devilishly. I put on my poker-face, and got deeper into my work.

Slowly, I straddled him from behind pulling my leg over the range of his lower back. I pressed into his shoulder blades with my smooth palms, and traced delicate little patterns. I felt the familiar demand blaze up inside my legs that I felt every time I was so near Edward, but I tried to calm it by pressing into his skin harder. "Do you like that?"

"Yes. It feels amazing, Bella."

I laid down on him, moving my hips and torso slowly. My hands pressed into his upper arms. "Is this nice?"

He groaned. "Too nice . . ."

I began to move my body, especially my pelvis, against him rhythmically, making sure to smooth over his skin with my bare flesh seductively. My hands slithered beneath him, feeling his warm chest with my comparatively frigid fingers. "Does this feel good as well?"

Edward growled, purred seductively, and the crookedness of his smile beamed. He flipped us over abruptly - catching me by surprise - so he was on top, slamming me down onto the soft mattress, and locking his lips with mine. Mine instantly melted.

I subsequently felt Edward's cool hands begin to press into all of my revealed skin. He kissed his way down my throat, and soon found my breasts with his lips. He unzipped my dress deftly, and then snapped off my bra's straps - I noticed how good he was getting at this - and I slid them down my arms as he explored my bosom with kisses, nibbles, and his sweet breath. It felt so animalistic, so good. I felt a shudder of pure pleasure ripple through me, ricocheting into my mouth, and resonating into an audible moan.

I ripped Edward's pants off while he only unbuttoned his shirt, not bothering to even take it off, and I squeezed his member softly. Edward's lips left my skin for a long groan of sexual pleasure. He'd been fingering the thin, cerise straps of my thong, but now he slid it off completely, and his fingers found everything down there that left me in insatiable screams of sexual gratification.

After playing with my clit for what seemed like hours of pleasure, Edward soon plunged his cool fingers in and out, tantalizing me. He caught me by surprise, and I felt everything moisten. His fingers began to slip in and out faster, easier, which made my head spin with the sexual delight. I dug my nails into the tough skin of his abdomen, and I swear I saw him grin.

I pulled his face up to mine by his chin so I could kiss him easier, and our fingers explored each other: I stroked, he delved. We moaned into each other's mouths as our tongues fought for dominance.

And all I could think of right then was how much I loved Edward; there was nothing else on my mind other than him, and how much I wanted and loved him. And, yes, I was happy.

After enough of the quenchless moans and lovely kisses, I pulled his hands back up to my bosom again, and mine found the soft planes of his chest. I turned us around so I was on top, and straddled one of his legs. I moved my pelvis against the leg in a quiet rhythm only we know. The quicker I moved, the better my clit felt; and the better my clit felt, the more moans I produced, and I knew how much that always seemed to excite Edward.

His beautiful groans - in response to my soft ones - were like music to my ears. A music that no one else understood or appreciated as much as I did. I didn't want the music to stop. It was almost like an addictive drug to here his soft melody of a voice molded into growls of pleasure I supplied.

It had seemed like eternity that I was listening to that music. At that moment, it seemed everything had stopped except the dazzling music. My heart had stopped. So did time and space. They were all listening to the music with me. Even the stars and the moon had dimmed for it.

Edward caught me off guard by then toppling over me, pulling me out of my reverie and trance that everything had stopped to listen to him. I tried to keep pace by moving my pelvis under his, where he then slowly guided his member in order to enter me. My fingers traced random patterns on his fingers as he did so. After this, it turns into a total frenzy.

Shouts of random sexual pleasure erupted from the both of us, but I knew exactly which was Edward's. His were rough grunts and growls that purred directly into my ear. It was the sweetest music. Now even the air was still, for it wanted to listen as well as everyone else.

Our lips never parted, and my hands search every slick sheet of his muscular chest. Edward's hands were everywhere from my breasts, to my neck, to my stomach, and then full circle again.

Together we move together on Edward's member, gently swaying unitedly as if we were laying on a hammock in the tropics, the gentle island breeze swinging us together, just us, as one being . . .

I liked it when we were one. It felt like the moment would never end; this was eternity for me. It was all I wanted in this life: Edward had his most vulnerable, most beautiful state. That was what I imagined heaven - in all its godly glory; just Edward and me, together, in this state.

When we were in this random moment, it felt like we were in our own little world. There was no one there to ruin it or tell us we couldn't be. There was nothing in our way. And all we did was just_ be_. And there was nothing I would rather have than that.

Edward began plunging further into me, and though the moans were ineluctable, I could appreciate everything that ran through my mind. Because everything on my mind was Edward, in some shape or form. There was nothing to live for if I didn't have this person, this love, this other half. It was true that I would feel incompletely without him. And it wasn't such a matter of dependency, addiction, as it was purely love. A love that could not be stopped. A love that could conquer all. A love that _would_, hopefully, conquer all. It was such a love that it was still so untainted, unpolluted.

But then it dawned on me like a heady fire; it clouded my mind and made my eyes water.

Everything was going in slow motion, painfully slow. I breathed in and out, panicked, and tried to concentrate. The news I'd just acknowledged from my own mind was making my head reel.

I thought I heard Edward whisper something like, "wow" into my ear, but the sound was liking hearing someone speak underwater; it was almost unimaginable to decipher or understand.

I had always thought that our love could conquer all, obviously. But then the recollection of what I had to do tonight - what I was _supposed_ to do - turned all my beliefs against me. I realized everything I had thought was wrong. Love could be conquered; it was _going_ to be conquered before midnight tonight! I was about to contaminate the once unstained love that we shared; only this time, the taint was going to be lifelong and scarring.

I started breathing unevenly. I knew that I didn't want to do this; I knew how it would hurt Edward, but I hadn't fully realized the detrimental potency of this. What it was going to do to the both of us for life. What it was going to keep us both from for the rest of our lives.

I think I started to cry. But I wasn't sure. The surroundings were too blurry caused by the slow motion. I thought that I felt wetness, but I didn't even care it I did. I deserved to cry at this for both of us.

And then like the snap of lightning, everything was normal. Edward was laying beside me, panting heavily. I was curled into his side like usual. The vestige of tears was smeared across my cheeks. I was not panting, but breathing rather strangely, in a jagged rhythm.

I listened to Edward's heart. It was thumping wildly, as if it were about to break from the bindings of his rib cage. It was alive with adrenaline. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I was going to kill it. And in a poetic sense, I was; I was going to break his heart, shatter into too many pieces. I gulped, and blocked out the image of a dazzling glass heart and my foot.

It was now or never. I had to say it. I had to just spit out; I couldn't beat around the bush; this was the one time I felt the need to be blunt, and not fuss with the details of my life.

I took a deep breath, but I couldn't open my mouth to form words. _Just pretend like you're asking him a casual question_, I told myself in hopes of making the impossible easy.

Yeah, a casual question.

_Exactly; think of it as small talk._

I thanked my alter ego, even though I resented it a bit. But I supposed it wasn't exactly its fault that I had to say the most least-favorable thing to say to one's lover ever thought of.

Yes. This was it. _Deep breath. You can do this_.

So I did. "Edward . . . ?"

**CLIFF-HANGING! FUN, HUH?!**

**REVIEW**!


	14. Undone

**Because I hurt the ones I love.**

"Bella . . . that was . . . beautiful. So unreal . . ." Edward voice dusted the midnight air. Oh, no - midnight.

"Y-yeah," I whispered. The breath caught in my throat, and it made my voice sound very strained and uncomfortable. Edward didn't seem to take notice to it though.

"It was . . . definitely the best night of my life," he continued. He seemed a bit dazed.

"Uh huh . . . Edward, I need to tell you something."

"I have never felt so good in my life."

My heartstrings knotted, and my stomach caved in. I knew I was going to cry. "Edward, please, can I just -"

"Never have I experienced something like that. It was beautiful, poetic in a way I can't even understand. For those moments, I felt so connected to you, as if we really were just one being. And it was marvelous. I don't know if I can ever go on without it . . ."

My brain was punctured. I couldn't think straight, unhealthy, polluting clouds were hazing my mind. "You may have to," I muttered between breaths to myself.

I soon noticed how sweaty I'd become. It glazed over every inch of my skin, and I began squirming in my hide. My eyelid twitched, and I had an overwhelming urge to just lash out, and scream. But I didn't - for Edward's sake. This was going to be hard enough; he didn't need me screaming at him all the while.

"Bella, I love you so much; it feels surreal. Your love is surreal. I don't how I take it all, but I do want it all."

"Edward, please, I really need to tell you something, will you quickly let me talk to -"

"I can't stop thinking about it. Every bend, every curve of you I keep retracing in my mind. I can't stop it. I don't know why I'd want to,either . . . you, as a being, as a soul, as a heart, is engulfing me. But it's so good . . . I can't fathom any of this." His short, tinkling laugh assured me he had no idea of his coming pain.

"Edward, please . . ."

"No way to describe . . . the whole feeling. It just _was_. And it will just _be_. You are just _you_, which is the most vibrant, most beautiful, most loving heart in all the -"

"I'm leaving you," I murmured. My eyes swelled pink, and tears spilled over the rim.

There was a long pause. I looked out at the starless night to avoid looking into Edward's omnipresent eyes. I couldn't bear them. I could bear the gems that were forever imprinted on my heart.

Edward took in a long breath. "What?" he breathed to the air. He wasn't facing me any longer.

I wiped at my eyes sloppily in an effort to seem more emotionless. "I am leaving you," I said, my voice a little bolder, a little more confident. But the tears pounded their tracks all the way down to my chin anyway. I wiped these away senselessly as well.

"Why?" Edward's voice broke, and a lump rose in my throat, causing me to make a sudden noise. It sounded like a whimper.

"Because this cannot be, this is unorthodox. I can't do this; I'm not this sort of girl . . ."

"Yes, you belong with me -"

"I'm the sort of girl who plays around, and never settles. I drink, and I fuck. I don't belong with anyone; the design never had anyone in mind for me. And there is no one whom I belong to."

"Yes, there is! _Me_!"

"No, Edward."

"Yes! What about the past couple of weeks we've shared together? Do they mean anything at all to you?"

"No."

"So it was just a game then? A game you could play until my father was healed? Do you love me no longer?"

"No, I don't."

"Bella, I want to have your children! And I do not care if they are boys, or if they are girls! And I want you, and your body, and your heart! When did it stop?"

"When I realized that I do not return such feelings." I was impressed by how emotionless and distant I seemed. But I knew that was not how I felt inside at all.

"I want you, I want every part of you, and I thought you felt the same. It didn't change -"

"It did change! Or, believe me, I wouldn't be saying any of this to you! But this is not me, I don't match up with anyone. And that includes you, Edward. You were the first one I ever had a breath of real feeling with, but it's still not _true_. It may have felt that way for a brief moment, but things aren't always as they appear."

"We did have truth. And we had beauty, and meaning, and _love_. How can you give any of that up?"

"Because it's all a mirage! It's just an air-drawn illusion we had fooled ourselves into believing. It means nothing. It is nothing. It never was, and it still isn't. It's worthless."

"It is everything -"

"It is nothing to me."

Those words seemed to be the most impact. Edward's breathing slowed. My muscles recoiled, and I grasped onto the thin sheets that lay atop us. The lump in my throat slowly evaporated.

"None of this can be real. I'm dreaming, aren't I?" Edward's voice was high, and on the edge of breaking.

"No, you're not."

"This has to be as much of a mirage as you said the blissful love we shared was. It must, it just must . . ."

"But it's not."

"I don't understand how any of this can be. Any of this! We shared the most personal moment of our lives together not a few minutes ago, and now you're telling me in means nothing to you. Why is this all true, why is this all happening now?"

"Because it must end now. I'm truly sorry for hurting another person, but we shared nothing. We are nothing. We don't add up; we are not meant for each other."

"But we are, we are! I know we are; we must be! If we are not, then what in my mortality means anything anymore? You were everything, and everything was _you_!"

"Things can change, Edward. I'm sure you will find someone who means more to you than I ever did. You'll find a match, I know you have one. It's just not _me_."

"I know it's you. There cannot be another, I don't want another, there is only you that I see."

"Things _change_ -"

"Not things like this! These things either break or stay together, and we can't let it break! It is too delicate."

"Edward, it was always meant to break! You can't see it, but it is true. As 'delicate' as the semblance was, it has to. I don't want you to be stuck with someone who is not for you."

"But you _are_ for me -"

"Please, Edward, save it. There are better things in this world than me. I cannot give to you what your fated correspond can. I am not analogous, and I never will be. To anyone. It is as simple as that, when it is broken down. You will find someone who is loyal, and beautiful, and loving, and deserving of you. And that's just_ not me_. There are people in the vast universe who have no match, and just float on alone, not fitting with anyone but themselves. And I am one of them."

"You don't have to be."

"But fate says I do. And I don't tamper with fate. I don't battle against it. So we must end this before it becomes too complicated; before you find your true mate."

"I've already found mine."

"Edward, no. I am not, and you must accept it. Either do that, or live life empty and unsatisfied."

"Life is already as such without you."

Now the final words. The words that curved my spine unpleasantly, and brought yet more saline tears to my swollen eyes. But I had to say them. They were the finishing touch, the last piece to pull all of this off. So, I swallowed my heart, and said them: "Goodbye, Edward."

I stole a glance at his face. It was sallow, and unhumanly pale, even paler than usual. I bit my lip, and the tears fell noiselessly on the sheets. I crawled out of bed, and lapsed a silky robe on. I tried to seem still passionless and frigid, but it was hard.

His eyes flickered to mine, and he breathed, "Bella, no -"

"_Edward! Je suis une créature des enfers! Je ne peux pas me permettre de vous aimer davantage!_" I yelled at him, though my back faced him instead. Mindlessly, I wiped heavy tears away again.

A long pause as I dressed. I glanced at Edward often, and he seemed to be looking at me, but not seeing. It frightened me to see him that way, but I couldn't stop the facade now.

"You admitted to loving me once," Edward breathed. His eyes seemed to be sinking there before me.

"I did, Edward, I did. But it means absolutely nothing! _Rien; comprenez?_" I yelled again, diverting his sallow eyes by screaming to the dark, starless night.

He nodded. I threw him his clothes. He silently dressed himself. When he was dressed and ready to leave, he skulked over to me, soundlessly. However, I was not surprised when his cool breath tickled my ear, "I just want you to know that I once loved you too. And I always will. You cannot convince me that I will forget, or find another. Because there is not one person in this damned universe who could ever begin to mean as much to me as you. Not one person. _Vous pouvez dire que nous ne sommes pas correspondus, mais je sais profondément dans mon âme que nous étions toujours, et serons toujours._ Assure yourself of all of this counterfeit fear you have of us, but I will remain unconvinced. Goodbye to you, Miss Swan."

Tears fell down my face like rain when I listened to Edward's heavy footsteps finally leave. When I heard the door close, I knew it was the most significant sound I'd ever hear.


	15. Numb

**This hasn't been a very good day, let alone week, but I devoted the last half hour of my night trying to squeeze this chapter in for YOU. So sit back and watch the emotional fireworks.**

What was I doing? The only thing that mattered to me was walking out of the door!

Without thinking, I hastened to the door, and yanked it open.

Edward was walking down the dimly lit hallway, his head down, his feet dragging. When he heard the awful squeak of my door, he turned slowly to confront me. When I saw his face - that only held seraphic sadness that burned my heartstrings - I remembered why I had sacrificed our relationship, our love. And I knew I had nothing to say.

So I gaped. I gaped for long, stretching moments before I finally spluttered, "Esme is your biological mother. She wanted you to know that, and I . . . forgot."

Edward merely nodded. His face looked as if it did not comprehend, as if his brain could not function properly. I looked down. I felt as though it was my fault, and it probably was.

After a long, painfully slow minute, his head bobbed mechanically, robotlike. He was nodding. "Good to know," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper and so hoarse and scratchy that it made my skin crawl. That was probably my fault too.

I nodded in return, and with a fiery agony, swivelled around so my back was facing Edward, and walked with weak knees back into my room. It took all of my willpower and courage to close the door in Edward's angelic, sallow face. I sighed in relief when it was done.

I spent the rest of that awful night staring into the black sky. I couldn't do anything else. There were, truly, no stars out that night. It matched my heart . . . so dismal and grim.

All I could think about was what I had done. What I had said, how Edward had responded to every emotionless word with the very fruit of his love and passion for me. The only things running through my - one thousand miles a minute - mind was what horrible crime I had committed toward both Edward and I.

But I somehow convince myself to stay void; void of emotion. I assured myself everything would be infinitely less painful if I didn't feel, if I was numb. So, I plastered an emotionless expression on my face and glassy eyes that appeared to see nothing. That very look on my face conveyed exactly what I had deluded myself into believing would assuage the pain that coiled itself around my black heart.

I don't remember if I cried or not before I assured myself numbness was for the best. But I wasn't really paying attention to my face as much as I was paying attention to the starless night and my scattered thoughts. But I remembered, as I composed my face into blankness, that my eyes had been unusually puffy and swollen before I blanched them, and forced myself to feel absolutely nothing at all.

In the morning, Charlie cracked my door open, to see if I was awake or not. The light of the sun was just peeking over the horizon as he entered. He knew I would be waken though.

His expression was as blank as my mask. He stood a few feet behind me, waiting. I finally turned to face him. He was still not showing any signs of emotions at all.

" _C'était difficile. Mais valeur cela . . . non_?" Charlie asked, his voice hiding a hidden note of empathy. But I was determined to ignore any emotion he dared to give me. Dead set on not showing any emotion either, I nodded blankly. He took a deep breath, and continued, "You have a show tonight. And Carlisle. You should get ready; you haven't done a show in many weeks. The other girls are waiting."

I nodded again, and glided out of the room like a phantom. I noticed that I started walking like that when I was expressionless and completely void of emotion.

The other girls were waiting. They lounged on the luxurious, antique sofas, quiet. I suppose they knew what happened, or had some sort of idea. No one tried to make talk about it, which I thoroughly appreciated of all of them. No emotion whatsoever.

Rosalie handed me a script with a smile. She had a gentle smile on her beautiful red lips, and whispered, "I'm sorry." I tried to convey returned kindness with my eyes, only to futility.

Alice was next. She handed me a brand-new corset. It was on a silken hanger. It was jeweled with thousands of tiny, gold sequins. It was bright and flashy, something I would have been thrilled to own if it hadn't been for the previous night.

As Alice handed me the hanger with sympathetic eyes and a teeth-bearing half-smile, she secretly squeezed my hand in assurance.

Alice's squeeze and Rosalie's smile helped me get through the day of unfamiliar rehearsal.

It was the usual theme: just a prostitute. Nothing special like a Hindi queen or a Greek goddess. The only real difference was the lyrics and my entrance - being carried on stage on a long, luxurious lounge sort of thing, only it was portable.

We had to practice many times with carrying me. It was mostly my fault though, the other girls complained I wasn't acting, that I was not into it when I needed to be. But they did not understand.

At least these rehearsals were taking my mind off of Edward and why I was so glum. The other girls' complaints and the new lyrics were keeping me occupied, though I vehemently despised this sort of work, though it uses to be the only thing that mattered to me before. But I continued on not to think of Edward for a long time because of it.

I was thankful for the distraction.

When I had even the slightest bit of time, Edward's piercing green eyes plagued my mind, and his unusually pale skin fogged every thought I tried to bring to my mind in means of a distraction. It was excruciating, and it took all of my strength to not cry out, and let the creases of pain crinkle my milky skin. I came close often though.

Before I knew it, it was nearly showtime. I was left alone with my thoughts, and I tried desperately to find another beguilement to enchant my mind, and flush everything else away. It was almost impossible though, so when Esme came forward with a grim expression and sympathetic eyes. I didn't let her try to comfort me; it would bring me back to Edward. So I did my best to divert her eyes. I moved quickly as well, so she wouldn't have a chance to hold my hand or anything.

Esme helped me dress and put on makeup, just like she use to. But it felt so wrong as she did so. Though I had never worn much makeup to begin with - lipstick and a few sweeps of pink powder - I had grown out of makeup when I was with Edward because Edward didn't care how much makeup I had on - he thought I was beautiful no matter what.

So when Esme applied the makeup to my face, it felt wrong. As though she was cementing my face rather than just putting on some powder. I did not show my discontent, but inside, I was squirming in my skin, dying to just slide my hand over my face and wipe all of it off. The lipstick was like pasting on miniature bricks.

When Esme was finished, I hardly recognized myself, and I thought I was going to cry. But the word "numb" echoed inside my mind, and I remained that way.

Esme pulled on the tights and heavy corset. She curled my flat hair. She did all in her power, it seemed, to make me feel beautiful. But I could not feel so without believing it myself.

Before I was to take the stage, Charlie approached me and informed Esme and I that I had to meet with Carlisle briefly. I did not dare to ask the question that was burning deep inside me, begging to be let free, for fear of breaking my composed, emotionless mask. So I merely agreed with a nod, and eyed Esme, letting her know that I wanted her with me. She nodded too, a confirmation to which I was relieved.

Charlie commented on how good I looked, and departed swiftly. To soften Carlisle up, no doubt. I sighed, and exchanged a heavy glance with Esme before we walked slowly in his footsteps, as if we were going to mourn at a funeral instead of meet the rich, expensive man who could possibly become my buyer. A month before this time, I would have been thrilled, confident, and sexy. But today, I was blank on the outside, and dreading every second on the inside.

Through the drunks and horny old men, I finally saw Charlie's back. I could only assume Carlisle was beyond him. But . . . Carlisle was beside Charlie's back, facing toward me - I gulped when I saw him. Why were Charlie and Carlisle not speaking to each other directly? There was only one explanation I could think of, but I was too frightened of it to acknowledge the possibility of its truth.

But, just my luck, it was truth. Charlie was facing Edward, looking as lovely as ever, though his eyes were sunk and his skin looked yellowish. He was always beautiful.

When I first saw him as I came up beside Charlie, my stomach dropped, and I thought I would vomit. Fortunately, I was able to keep it in and retain my passive expression and glassy eyes. Edward's expression seemed to mirror mine in its blankness.

When I first saw Edward, I also noticed a girl standing beside him. She was short, not even coming up to Edward's shoulder, which she kept very close to, I perceived. She had flat gray eyes and short, curt brown hair that abruptly ceased halfway down her neck. The ends were sharp and harsh, like her taut pink lips.

Her eyes flickered to mine, and a sudden cloud of harshness enveloped the dreary gray coloring of them, making them seem darker. I gulped. It was sort of intimidating.

But then were tight lips pulled up in the corners, revealing a tiny smile. But it was only common courtesy.

We stared at each other for a long time. I was sure everyone else was watching me as well, but this new girl's sharp gaze seemed to hold mine more than anyone else's, which was strange, because Edward's green eyes were most definitely on me, but not in a good way.

Our stare down continued until Edward cleared his throat, and whispered, "Bella, this is Jessica."

Even when his voice was just a wispy chord, it was still unbelievably melodic and sweet to listen to. It melted off of his tongue and into the air like honey, and it made my spine shivered. I missed that beautiful, musical sound of his voice.

Though I denied it, and refused to even think about how it tingled my skin and had my hair raised.

Jessica's face did not move from the tiny, courteous smile as she said in an annoying voice, "Hello. It's nice to meet you. I understand you brought my Edward here into manhood."

My ears perked up when she added the word "my" to the front of Edward's name. I shook Jessica's hand unknowingly, and said shakily, "When did you two meet?"

"Oh, they met just today, on the banks of the Seine. Edward and I were enjoying a nice walk when he noticed this beautiful lady here. It's been all uphill from there, hasn't it, son?" Carlisle chimed in, clapping his son on the back. His voice made my blood run cold, and I kept staring at Jessica's dull gray eyes just to avoid his.

I quickly glanced at Edward though, and the way his jaw was clamped shut and his eyes were unmoving led me to believe that maybe it hadn't happened just that way.

"Oh. How lovely," I said vaguely. I did not smile.

"Yes, it is. Jessica like each other very much, don't we, darling?" Edward added.

Jessica looked up at him with foolish adoration and said, "Yes. Yes we are so, so happy."

I winced. "But you've only known each other for a few hours."

"That doesn't mean much. We enjoy each other's company. We have a lot in common as well. I could talk to Edward endlessly; he is so interesting. We're perfect."

The next wince was more noticeable. "Oh. That's wonderful. You may not want to rush though."

"Oh, we do."

My top lip twitched. "How can you be so sure?"

Jessica shrugged, still staring up at Edward, though he had fixed his gaze on something behind me. "Because we're perfect for each other, like I said. I know."

"Ah," was my curt reply.

Charlie sensed the conversation taking a wrong turn, so he intervened like always. "Well, why don't you all seat yourselves in the Guest of Honor booth over there? The show will begin momentarily, and you need to get in position, Bella."

My glassy stare did not change. "Of course." But I did not start moving until Esme tugged on my hand, and led me backstage. I had no recollection of this afterward.

When we were backstage again, Esme gripped my shoulders, and looked me dead straight into my expressionless face. "Bella? Bella, are you all right, _mon enfant_?"

I snapped out of it, and replied curtly, "I'm fine. Just a little shaken. This is my first show in a long time."

Esme pursed her lips. "You know that's not why you're so disturbed,_ mon peu un._"

"Why do you call me little?"

She smiled. "Because. Even though you act so strong and try to block all of your feelings from surfacing, I know you're frightened and alone. You are not happy, and you need someone to comfort you. You are almost eighteen, an adult, but sometimes even adults need someone to comfort them. If you would allow me or Alice or, amazingly, Rosalie console you, I know you would feel better. But you don't want to let anyone in. You think you have to do everything alone, but . . . you don't."

I flinched. I knew her words had some truth to them, but I did not how much.

I didn't know because I didn't know who I was.

I'd changed from one person to another over the past month or so, and I couldn't keep track. And especially without Edward, I couldn't keep track of it all. It was too much for one person's back.

I thought about this as Esme prepared me for the stage, touching up my makeup, helping the other girls lift me. I was miles away from that stage though, I knew.

And as the slow motion clapping rang in my ears and slowly became aware of the five people carrying me, Esme backstage, waving, I was pulled out of the reverie.

**The next chapter is more kickass. You wait.**


	16. Assured

**Kick. ASS. lol xD**

**.com/**

I realized I was on stage. And people were clapping, waiting eagerly for me to begin.

The other girls were setting me on stage. The orchestra below was preparing to start the song. But everything was blurry and in slow motion. My ears were ringing.

Even though I barely knew myself anymore, I knew I didn't want this. I didn't want the stage or the limelight anymore. That was not me. That had never really been me, and I knew. I knew that very well as I looked out into the audience of horny old men.

I sighed for a split second.

But that split second was everything.

In that flash of a second as I was being propped up, I saw the Guest of Honor booth in the back corner. And I saw Edward, whose eyes were set on me was as if his eyes were only for me, there was no one else. An unrecognizable feeling washed through me when I saw that, splayed obviously in Edward's sunken eyes.

And I then saw Jessica take notice of this, her expression becoming angry and intolerant. And then I saw that hag kiss Edward - catching him by surprise - with tongue and all.

I knew I was going to faint. I let the slightest bit of shock cross my face. But that slip let loose a tumult.

Jessica, the uptight crazy girlfriend was kissing Edward, the man I was desperately in love with! That, adding the tiny bit of shock I let onto my face ruined me.

I fell apart.

And I released.

A storm of the many emotions that were packed inside me poured out like a great flood. It was overwhelming at first, but my hands and mouth were quicker than my mind, and before I knew what was happening, I realized I was singing. About Edward.

"_Je vous ai dit que je n'avais pas raison_

_Mais vous ne savez pas que je mens ?_

_Je mens, je suis une prostituée, je mens!_

_Mais vous l'avez cru, chaque mot_

_Et c'était simplement absurde_

_Mais il m'a englouti_

_Et bien que j'aie essayé d'être en blanc et nul,_

_Ce baiser qu'elle a volé était tout ce qu'il a pris_!"

What was I_ doing_? I just told the audience everything that had happened that day and just in that split second. I was crazy. I had gone mad, and that's why I continued.

"_Je ne pense pas que j'arrête jamais de vous aimer_

_Vous êtes la seule chose qui m'a gardé continuant pour toujours_

_Vous étiez plus que juste mon amant, vous étiez mon tout_

_Vous étiez partout et c'était seulement stupéfiant_

_Il n'y avait jamais des temps où j'ai douté de vous_

_Ou les temps où j'étais furieux de vous_

_Vous êtes parfaits de chaque façon_

_Je vous veux et seulement vous!_

_Pourrais-je le donner plus loin?_"

I was almost screaming these improvised lyrics to the surprised, yet amused audience.

I stunned myself. I couldn't believe these words were coming out of my mouth. I was confessing my love for him, and the raw desire I had to always love him! To everyone! To Carlisle, to Jessica. To Charlie. And to Edward, who was most important of all.

"_C'était un tour malheureux de destin_

_Ce m'a gardé de vous_

_Il a impliqué un couteau_

_Et le dessin de mon sang_

_Je savais qu'il vous écraserait_

_Plus que si j'ai juste dit au revoir_

_Donc je suis allé que la façon de vous aider_

_Il était pour votre propre bien!_

_Mais c'était dur_

_Parce que chaque mot était un mensonge affreux!_

_Je ne pouvais pas supporter pour pour toujours après_

_Et je suppose c'est pour cela que je vous le chante!_"

And there I had revealed Charlie and the very reason I had chosen to leave Edward. The words were just pouring out of my mouth like running water, they were uncontrollable.

I sang the chorus again.

"_Je ne pense pas que j'arrête jamais de vous aimer_

_Vous êtes la seule chose qui m'a gardé continuant pour toujours_

_Vous étiez plus que juste mon amant, vous étiez mon tout_

_Vous étiez partout et c'était seulement stupéfiant_

_Il n'y avait jamais des temps où j'ai douté de vous_

_Ou les temps où j'étais furieux de vous_

_Vous êtes parfaits de chaque façon_

_Je vous veux et seulement vous!_

_Pourrais-je le donner plus loin?_"

But then my mouth prepared a finale. A finale that forever changed the outcome of my life.

"_Je ne sais pas si vous pouvez me reprendre_

_Je ne sais pas si je mérite votre confiance_

_Je ne sais pas même si je vous mérite_

_Mais ça ne fait rien_

_Parce que tout je pense_

_Est comment je vous aime!_

_Je ne placerais pas le blâme sur vos épaules_

_Vous avez Jessica pour maintenant_

_Vous êtes parfaits l'un pour l'autre, vous savez!_

_Mais j'ai besoin pour vous de le savoir plus_

_Que je vous aie aimés_

_Et je vous aime_

_Et je me poursuivrai sur l'amour de vous jusqu'à ce que la Terre soit faite!_

_Parce que rien ne peut surmonter cet amour_

_Il a non souillé et pur_

_Et cela me signifie trop_

_Ainsi si vous êtes disposés à me reprendre_

_Je suis ici_

_Parce que vous êtes la vie, le sens et l'amour!_"

I couldn't believe those words had actually come from _my mouth_. But in that instant when I knew I was done, I felt better. Like all the troubles in the world were gone, though I knew there were many waiting for me just behind the stage curtain. But I felt like all of the gaping holes were patched up, and I was finally complete.

Whole.

I drew in a long breath, and looked into the crowd. Everyone was cheering except the group in the back booth.

Edward looked better, like he was whole as well. His eyes were not sinking, and his skin was restored to the normal pale as before. I smiled to see him better.

I could also see the same love I felt radiate from his face. The smile was an absolute grin of happiness then.

Jessica looked shocked. She looked totally shocked. That expression added to the smile.

But Carlisle's diminished it altogether. It was angry, so angry, it would put the devil on a bad day to shame. The fire blazed in his eyes seeably, and his pale skin was slowly turning to color of a tomato. It frightened me, and I had to look away.

I dropped the microphone, and stomped offstage. The stunned girls followed vaguely; still shocked I would change the song that way. They would never have such nerve.

From the corner of my eye, I saw someone in the booth get up as well. I prayed it was Jessica, so she could storm out.

When I was backstage, I saw Charlie.

He was fuming.

He was almost as angry as Carlisle.

I was suddenly even more fearful than before.

Luckily, he was fuming in the very back of the musty room. I could make a run for it.

I did.

I sprinted up the stairs and down the hall. I didn't hear following footsteps, but I didn't stop running.

I darted into my room, locked it, and immediately starting packing. With or without Edward, I was leaving this damned hell hole, one way or another. And this was my chance.

I threw in jewelry, clothes, and spare coins. Whatever I could get my hands on. I needed to hurry.

And then there was a knock on my door.

I hesitated.

It could be Edward, Charlie, or Carlisle.

I listened to the knock. It sounded urgent, like it desperately needed to be let in.

Was it Edward?

"Edward?" I called from the other side, hesitation dripping from my words. Terror was behind them though.

A pause. I panicked. Was it Edward or not?!

"It's me," the familiar silky voice echoed from behind the door. "It's me, Edward."

My heart swelled, and blissful tears filled my eyes. It was Edward, it was Edward!

Edward, the man who gave my life a meaning. He showed me real love; he showed me real _life_! Before him, I was a sham. I was nothing. When he came along, there was balance and restoration. When he came along, I finally began to live.

I opened the door.


	17. Violated

**Finally finished this!**

Out of the darkness of the hallway, two pale, terrifying hands leapt out and grabbed hold of my neck.  
"How could you do this to me?" The hands grappled onto my throat even tighter. My eyes filled tears, and fear strangled my mind; I couldn't defend myself. "I was going to buy you, Bella."  
Tears came fast, like rain, and ran down my cheeks and across Carlisle's pale hands. What was happening?

I felt my feet being slowly lifted from their firm spot on the ground. He was lifting me with the pure strength of his fingers. I tried desperately to free myself from his impossible clutch on me with my own hands, but the tighter he held, the less able I was. I felt completely powerless, and prayed for death, which I had a feeling was coming soon, with the potency of his grip.  
At least I tried.  
_You told Edward you actually _did_ love him as well._  
And that was enough.  
My watering eyes met with Carlisle's for a fleeting second. And in their deep blue, there was an anger that was so fierce, I felt the need to look away. The only problem was that, that was nearly impossible. His eyes held me like his hands did - vulnerable and captivated, but begging every second to be let go. It was no more murder than his strangling me.  
I realized then that this was it. Murder was Carlisle's expression; he wanted to murder me. And I knew I was going to die. It was so obvious, so apparent that tonight was going to be the night I would die. I just had not been quick enough.  
But oddly, I felt sort of okay with that. I mean, I had told Edward that I did truly love him - I was ending on a good note. He knew I loved him as much as I myself did. I had gotten up in front of a horny crowd, not to mention Carlisle, Jessica, and Charlie, and sang out everything that had happened to us, the true reasons. He knew that I loved him still, and I had never stopped. It had been the influence of a knife that forced me to tell the lie, and he knew it now; I was ready to die.  
I glanced into Carlisle's eyes one more time. At the same time I was looking into the murderous blue, I also saw my life flash before my eyes . . .

The first time I had met Charlie skidded across my vision first. I then saw when I first met Rosalie and Esme and Alice. And I saw the crowd of my first show. I felt those feelings that I then realized were superficial and untrue. They were just me, floating on the surface. I had been nothing then, a sham of a real person and a real personality.

But then I saw Carlisle and Edward for the first time. And how the unrecognizable feelings of first love had strangled my heart. And then the next memories were Edward, and only him. They were the most beautiful, most clear ones, as well. The whole time, they were accompanied by the sweet feelings of love, and despite myself, I smiled.  
Carlisle did not like that.  
He crushed my neck for a moment, and in that moment, I thought I was going to die. My eyes popped out of their sockets, and my head began to pound. But then, all of a sudden, my whole body was being hurled across the room, into the wall, everything blundering past my vision too rapidly. I didn't understand why until I finally smacked against the wall.  
I was bewildered, but before I could become aware of my surroundings again, something pounded into my stomach. Carlisle's wrathful and blurry face was all I saw as my head reeled.

He had punched me, and the consequences were awful for me. I was dizzy and I couldn't breathe again. Neither could I think nor do anything to stop him because of the lack of air.  
The fist came back, but it punched my cheek this time instead. I tasted blood on the inside of my mouth, and the smell of iron and salt filled my nose. I spluttered and coughed, red droplets flying from my mouth into the blur that was Carlisle and the dirty white walls.  
I then felt a sharp pang at the base of my knee. The pain was excruciating, and this time I knew I was screaming. I saw Carlisle's foot pull back from place of agony, his loafer splattered with a dark liquid. I found my hand, and brushed it against my knee; I felt something sticky. I held it to my nose, and smelled the combination of iron and salt again; it had to be my blood.  
Then there was a sharp jerking of my scalp; I realized Carlisle was pulling on my hair. My hands found my hair, and desperately scratched at Carlisle's hands to let go. But he didn't let me go until he pushed me into the wall with force. I screamed out, but it was silenced by a sudden kick to my stomach.  
I fell to the floor like sand, as if I were fainting. And I just stayed down, waiting for the next blow to come as swiftly as the first. And while I waited, I quickly analyzed the damage Carlisle had done.  
There was a throbbing pain in my cheek, scalp, and stomach. I felt the dull pain of bruises cover my face, arms, and legs. There was a glutinous liquid - my blood - oozing out of a terrifying gash beneath my knee. It throbbed with a strange agony I hadn't felt before.  
My breath came out in short gasps; I was trying to retain air. But slowly, that began to pay off - I was beginning to breathe better as I waited. And the regaining of air helped me stop my head from spinning, and finally notice and understand what was going on. I was in my room of course, slumped against my wall, just feet away from my bed.I was suddenly alarmed though; I couldn't find Carlisle. He wasn't in my line of vision. I panicked at first . . . but then I began to relax - maybe he had left me alone. He'd done the damage, taken out his rage, and now he was gone, to leave me be. But I felt unsatisfied, for some reason.

I also felt bold. Too bold . . . it was an odd feeling. But, I decided to embrace it anyway.

"That's it? Domestic violence then? That's how you're planning to kill me, is it?" I asked Carlisle - wherever he had gone - my teeth gritted, and my heart pounding. I had never been this adventurous.

I heard an expected acrimonious shout - I knew it was from Carlisle. I squeezed my eyes shut, and waited.

I hadn't been foolish to brace myself; Carlisle issued a kick at my side from wherever he was. And I gave a scream. But the bold feeling was still with me . . . and though it hadn't _exactly_ turned out well, I had stood up for myself. And I liked _that_ feeling . . . a lot.

So I did once more.

I stood up, though Carlisle's foot kept coming at me. I backed myself so I was flat against the wall. My eyes were shut tightly, but my teeth were clenched together and my voice was strong as I said, "_Stop_!"

And for some reason, he did stop. It was strange, but his foot stopped propelling at me. I waited for him to retaliate again, but it was a very peculiar thing . . . because he didn't.

I opened my eyes, and looked around. I didn't see him. So I decided to be quick, and run.

I projected myself from the wall in an effort. But steely arms caught me around my waist, and I had to scream. I knew it was Carlisle, and his surprisal had stunned me. But for yet another peculiar reason, the same bold feeling from before stayed with me, strong as ever.

Carlisle flipped me around so I was facing him, my lips inches from him - it made me squirm. He grabbed my wrists, and his nails dug into my skin uneasily. I tried to free myself. I hissed at him repeatedly, "Don't. Touch. _Me_. Don't touch me! I said, _do not touch me_!"

He smiled devilishly, and pushed me onto my bed, my wrists still attached to his iron hands that I tried desperately to free myself from. He crashed down on top of me, not supporting any of his weight; I could barely breathe under him. I tried, unhopefully, to get him off my yelling in his ear with as much volume as I could, which wasn't much. "Get off me!" It sounded as though I was crying, I wanted him to leave me alone so badly.

Carlisle quickly began pulling my dress up, and grabbing at my panties. But the more I squirmed and tried to dodge his grappling hand, the more frustrated he became. So, he clamped a hand over my mouth and forced as much of his weight on me as was possible, and yanked my panties down, me being completely powerless and dismayed because of him.

There was no stopping Carlisle. He was going to rape me, and that was the end of that. Though I was crying like a frightened child and I was wishing for nothing more than for him to leave me the hell alone, it was going to happen. Carlisle was making sure of it.

The bold feeling had evaporated completely.

With the last gust of air I had stored in my lungs, I hissed in Carlisle's ear pleadingly, "_Please_."

He lifted his head and looked at me. He cocked his head, then giving me a torn expression. His eyebrows twisted up his impossibly smooth forehead, and he bit his lip. I would have exhaled in alleviation if I had had any air within me.

But then it flashed across his face like a meteor: a smirk. A smirk so monstrous, so cruel, that I had to give the most disgusted face I could. It was a smirk of pride. It was a smirk of trickery. He hadn't been considering letting me go; he had been playing the game of guile.

My mouth twisted into a childish shape, and I began to wail and beg once more. But Carlisle didn't care - he continued to violate me as if my mouth was firmly stitched shut.

It was an ordeal. The whole thing was horrific, awful. Not once did I moan in pleasure or ask him to bring me more. I just stared blankly at the wall, as hope of getting him to turn into a decent man faded like a sunset. I didn't beg or plead, but merely let him profane me over and over again.

Technically though, he had not raped me yet though, for neither of us had climaxed yet. Of course, Carlisle yielded sexual moans and groans often - as I opposed to me, who just stared up at the ceiling - but he hadn't yet to orgasm yet. And even though I was not enjoying myself much, the nature of the human body - I knew, using common sense - would eventually give into the sinful pleasure, and I would climax with Carlisle, the scumbag.

Nevertheless, I continued to feel disgusting; nothing could wash off this intrusion. It would blacken every ocean and every lake with the foul sin of the moment. It was atrocious, and I felt like the dirtiest whore of them all. I was revolted, but I was also shameful of myself. I'd led a dirty life of sex, money, stage, and shallowness. When you summed it up, it didn't seem like much of a life at all; or to me it didn't, at least. I'd wasted my youth on stupid, petty things that seemed like all the treasure of the world on the outside, but it really, truly meant absolutely nothing. The jewels and the money and the members were beautiful, they all were, there was no denying that; but they hadn't brought me solace. They hadn't brought me happy, unrecognizable feelings that could never be duplicated or explained. They brought me their cold, hard shell, and nothing more.

But Edward hadn't. He had brought to me those feelings that I had been unknowingly craving for so very long. He brought me the desired attention; the attention that was brought when you couldn't help staring into someone's beautiful eyes, not the attention that was brought about when you were wearing a skimpy corset. It was real attention: the type showgirls and whores try to replicate. And it could be . . . to an extent. It could be up until everything was flashy and gaudy. Up until people didn't mean it when they said "I love you" or paid you to be with them. That was a different, less desirable type of attention.

So as Carlisle uninterruptedly desecrated me - perhaps in hopes of making himself and I climax - I thought about Edward. And about how much he had given to my life, how he had bettered me as a person. He'd only given, never taken away. But of course, I was there, there to destroy it all with a few words and a blank mask for me to wear whilst I said them.

Now, I was not only sickened by myself for somehow bringing myself to a rape by Carlisle, but also because I had destroyed everything. I had brought all of this upon myself. All of these happenings were my fault, my mistakes. I was a clumsy fool, and I had brought upon myself the storm clouds of stupidity and slips. I was an erroneous, errant, asinine idiot for ruining my own life.

I began to cry again, I was sure of it, even if I was hesitant to admit it to my own self. But I did. I shed the stupid tears again because the realization that I had wrecked my own life was too much. And I needed to feel that way until I didn't - or couldn't - feel that way anymore.

So I wailed and blubbered like a little girl, Carlisle paying no attention, as was expected.

I cried for myself, egoistically. I cried for Edward. I cried for Alice, Rosalie, and Esme. I cried for my dilapidated life that I had brought upon myself. I cried for my heart, the torn sham that was once full and beating with love, but now was barely thumping, a shred of what it once was.

And I cried for the world. Because I never wanted there to be another girl, another person at all that would be as in as much pain as I selfishly admitted I was in. I didn't want that for anyone; I wouldn't even wish it upon my own enemy, Carlisle. Though he was a ruthless, cruel, heartless man, I couldn't bare to ask this painful burden to be placed on his back as well. It was that heavy, filled with that much pain that I couldn't even wish it on Carlisle.

And then I felt it; it was like a snag in my sexual organs, a jolt of some sort. And then I realized I was going to orgasm, despite myself. With a heavy heart and sad eyes that wished for nothing more than death, I hesitantly allowed my body to go ahead, and just be done with it.

I knew Carlisle was going to as well; I could see it in his face. I sighed the little air I had, and gave in.

But just seconds before I slipped into the trance that was defined as an orgasm, my door swung open.

It was exactly in my life of vision, but merely a blurry image in my peripherals. It was the awfully loud and annoying creaking sound that my door made that had really tipped me off.

Carlisle and I both abruptly pulled out of the beginnings of a climax to see who had barged in.

**Cliffhanger! I'm gettin' good at these!!**

**Well, I have to go write an English paper . . . have a good night . . . and review . . . and stay TUNED everything is just getting good!**


	18. Union

**Sorry the format was kind of weird in the last chapter, Violated . . . I worked on the beginnings of the chapter on another computer, and emailed it to this one so I could work on it more and save it under my documents, and apparently, it did something to mess with the formatting. No worries though, right guys? It was fine, you could read it, right? Hopefully . . .**

**Also, that rape/beating scene was in inspired by Keira Knightley [my favorite actress too, by the way] in her domestic violence ad/campaign thing and the scene in her movie The Duchess when the Duke rapes her. I took all my knowledge from that, elaborated it and changed some things, and there it was, spilled all over the WordPerfect document.**

**I'd show you guys these inspirations with links, but last time I posted a link, it only showed up on fanfiction as , so I don't think I will. Either watch The Duchess or look up "Keira Knightley domestic violence ad" on YouTube or something.**

**Sorry for the uncharacteristically long A/N for this chapter, but they were things I meant to tell you in the last chapter, and just totally forgot about. So here's the chapter [finally]! I practically wrote down in my plan book the first three pages during a test today when I finished before everyone else and I was extremely bored lol**

Carlisle was suddenly being ripped away from me by an unknown force I could not see in the darkness of the room.

His hands grappled at my cheeks, one scratching my left cheek - the one that was on the right was swollen due to one of Carlisle's previous punches - and the other pulling at my right eye. I yanked his hands off of me, which ended up revealing a shiner and three large, catlike scratches on the side of my face. Oh well. Add to the bruises and cuts, why not?

I sat up in bed as soon as Carlisle was off me, and jerked my panties up and my dress back over. As I sat upright in the bed, I squinted and adjusted my vision persistently to see who my savior had been. Again, because of the cover of darkness in my room, I couldn't see anything.

Soon thereafter though, the sound of a smack echoed in my room, and I knew it had been Carlisle who had been punched by my unknown hero. I waited patiently for him to reveal himself, remembering Carlisle's rape and how I had almost had an orgasm to the scumbag. I shivered at each memory, for the last was always more severe or painful than the first.

But I waited patiently nonetheless. I didn't really know how else to react or what else to do.

When the smacking was over and I knew Carlisle was as unconscious as a dead man, my savior called out in a familiar voice that had always reminded me of honey and velvet, "Alice?"

I was stunned to hear the voice, and a half - only half - didn't _want_ to hear it, much less admit it had spoken.

A light illuminated my room, a candle held by Alice. She looked pale and sallow. For once, her expression wasn't sassy or sarcastic. It was genuinely sad, genuinely scared. It was out of place to see it.

Nevertheless, I almost cried for joy when I saw Alice. I felt as though I was seeing her for the first time in years.

Alice came into the room, her footsteps silent, and glided over to my savior. Her candle's light let me make sure he was whom I thought he was: Edward. And I had been right; there he stood, his tall, perfect frame casting long shadows on the wall behind him, his tousled bronze hair brightened by the new candlelight. The green gems that were his eyes glinted celestially from the candlelight, and I realized my memory had never served them the justice they deserved - they were far more beautiful than any memory could conjure. Same with his perfect, ruby red lips; they were as angelic and surreal as they had ever been, contrasting greatly with the mental image I had stored. And his pale skin seemed to be much paler than I remembered - but I didn't care, he was still beautiful, a fallen angel who had lost his wings but was still just as beautiful.

I gasped when I saw him, and the combination of happiness in seeing Alice too, left me frozen, my mouth agape. I didn't know what to do or say, so I just stared at them with surprise for the first few moments.

While I was gazing on, mouth hanging wide-open, Edward and Alice's once plain expressions morphed into those of horror. Seeing their faces turn, made mine turn as well; my own expression began to display puzzlement, following their horrified looks.

We stared at each other for a while before I finally asked, "What? What is it, what's wrong?"

Alice and Edward continued to eye me with horror. My eyebrows were raised, waiting for a response. Finally Alice cleared her throat and then stuttered, "Um, Bella, kid . . . are ya, uh, are ya okay?"

My eyebrows set themselves over my eyes instead now. "Yes, I'm fine," I said firmly with a hint of suspicion. I paused. "Why?"

Edward suddenly looked as if he'd snapped out a trance. His forehead crinkled, and he looked at Alice briefly before turning back to me, an expression of pure worry plastered on his face. He then tried to form a coherent sentence, at last producing, "Bella, have you seen yourself?"

This left me even more puzzled; what the hell? "What are you . . . talking about, Edward?"

Edward and Alice exchanged glances. Alice took a deep breath, and then said, "Darling, ya covered in gashes an' bruises."

I opened my mouth, but then quickly shut it. I remembered the scrapes and my shiner and all the bruises and slices. I brushed my fingers tenderly over my arms, feeling the raised skin that were the many bruises. I trailed my fingers over the three sticky scratches that were embellished deep into my cheek. I then swept my fingers over my swollen eye and cheek. But I didn't even want to know how the gash at the base of my knee was doing.

I looked at them, puzzled again, my mouth opened slightly. Then I asked dumbly, "What . . . ?"

Alice gulped, and then whispered, "Those ah from Carlisle, Bella. The whole house heard ya screams."

I gasped, and covered my mouth with both my hands. I winced when my swollen cheek throbbed a bit at the sudden movement. "What? Le tout . . . _Chacun a entendu_?"

Alice bit her lip and nodded. Pain dashed across Edward's face, and he turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose. My mouth twisted in sorrow, and I suddenly had a combination of humiliation and guilt.

I placed my hand on Edward's shoulder, intending to spin him around and look at me, but before I had a chance, he twisted swiftly, and held my forearms. "Bella," he began, agony twisting his voice, "I am . . . so sorry. I wish I could say more, I _want_ to say more, but I don't know how. I can't even think of an apology that would make up for this . . ."

Alice nodded to herself, and slowly backed away, closer to the door, to give Edward and I our moment.

I was perplexed. I placed my hands gently over Edward's smooth, cool cheeks, and stared him straight in the emerald green eyes, though the beauty was a little painful to stare directly into. "Edward, you having absolutely nothing to apologize for -"

Edward's hands grasped desperately at mine, which were caressing his face, and whispered tightly, "Bella, all of this is my fault. He's my horrid father, and I am so, so sorry for it all!"

I shushed him by placing a finger over his lips. "Please, Edward . . . you don't need to apologize. You'll make things better if you don't. I just need _you_ right now, not your apologies."

A slow smile cracked onto scarlet lips. "I'm here," he whispered, trying to mask the agony.

I took in a deep breath. There was so much that I wanted to say to him at that moment . . . but I need to structure and compose it so it wouldn't catch him off guard. I took another breath, and began, "We can't ever be apart. You can't do that to me. Ever. You _cannot_ leave me. Promise this will never happen again. Never, never, never. Please, just . . . _we cannot be apart_," I whispered, the sentences running together, the words heavy and thick with tears.

He held my face in his hands now. His forlorn eyes were rimmed with a pinkish red - even though he looked so lost, I could see the happiness move in his eyes again - but he probably was looking better than me. "I'm here. I won't ever leave you again, even if you ask me to. I had a worse time without you than you did. Trust me when I saw that I will never be apart from you again. I am here, Bella. And I will always love you."

I sniffled, cracked a tiny smile, and buried my face into his chest. He let my salty tears stain his nice, blue button-up shirt. "I will always love you too. I can't believe I did something like that. I just can't do that ever again. It . . . it hurt. I couldn't . . . couldn't bare it . . ."

"I'm here," he whispered.

"Always be here." My voice was low and anguished. More so than I meant it to be. "And I will too."

"I will always be here, as long as you are there to bear every second of my life with me," he promised me, agonized.

I felt my sobs burn my throat. I felt my tears seep through his nice shirt. And I felt like I could never detach my arms from his waist, and I could never peel my heart from him. It belonged to him now entirely, more than it had before, if that was even possible.

"Bella, love?" he said into my hair, still hugging me close to him.

My answer was vague; I was in too much personal nirvana to care what I sounded like. "Yes?"

"You have bruises . . . on your neck."

Alice gasped while Edward swiftly examined my neck tenderly. But I swatted them away. "Alice! Edward! Please! _Arrêtez-vous_! I am completely fine. I didn't even know I had those."

But they didn't listen. Edward scooped me up in his arms bridal-style, despite my protesting and whining, Alice hurrying close behind him, her candle guiding the way to her room.

When we had arrived there, Edward placed me gently on Alice's bed, and asked Alice to fetch a cloth, some water, and a roll of gauze. Alice did as Edward asked, and she hastened to the washroom the grab the needed supplies, though I cursed and begged her to not do so, though Alice ignored me completely. I scowled, crossed my arms, and glared at Edward. But his concerned expression had me biting my lip and suddenly feeling guilty.

"Edward, please, you don't need to make a big deal out of this," I mumbled, looking at my feet.

He gazed at me, and knelt down so he was on the same level as me. "Bella, we need to patch you up before we can go anywhere."

I narrowed my eyes. "Do you mean . . ."

Edward grinned deviously, and I smiled and yelped in excitement after he said, "Yes. We're going to run away tonight, to Orléans! And we're taking Alice, and we'll be so happy!"

I screamed and threw my arms around him. "Oh, Edward, I can't wait to be with you! I love you!"

Edward laughed, and kissed me long and passionately. I kissed back with as much zeal and love that I had been storing in the past days I had been without Edward. "I love you too," he whispered to my lips.

Edward slowly leaned over me, and I placed my arms tighter around his neck. Edward was leaning over me completely, kissing me better than my memory had ever served, when Alice came back into the room with the supplies. "Holy Jesus, getta room!" she yelled at us emphatically, covering eyes.

Edward and I chuckled to each other as we kissed, but we didn't stop as Alice had commanded. It took the amazing strength of Alice's tiny frame to lift Edward away so his lips were torn from mine to make us stop. I wasn't too happy about that - who said I was done kissing him? I hadn't seen him in what felt like eternity! - but Edward merely chuckled, and whispered to my lips, which were a breath away from his, "I love you, Bella."

I bit my bottom lip, looking lovingly into his eyes, and breathed, "Edward, I love you too. More than you can ever know! I never meant any of it, I always loved, I never did stop! I love you unconditionally and irrevocably, no matter what I ever lie to you -"

He shushed me with a quiet breath. "I know, Bella, as do I," he said as he allowed Alice to lift him upright.

Alice swatted him away, and began to work. I sighed, but let her fix me up unnecessarily anyway.

She first doused the cloth with the water, and smoothed it over my contusions, gashes, and swollen areas. She did it with some pressure, so I winced every now and then, much to Edward concern and dismay. I rolled my eyes every time his eyes widened in fear though.

When Alice was done "cleansing" my wounds, she took a thin block of wood, and put it directly over the large scrape below my knee. The pressure burned a little, but the injury soon became use to it, and it didn't bother me as much. Alice then wrapped layers and layers of gauze around it tightly, making sure everything stayed in its place.

While Alice was patching up the largest gash, Edward turned away, took a piece of parchment and a quill from his pockets. He asked me if I could read, and as if he were mental, I replied that I could indeed read, and he began to scribble on the parchment. He wasn't hasty as he wrote though; he seemed to be choosing his words very carefully, trying to make sure they were the choice words he could use. I felt a wave of admiration wash through me as I watched him.

Edward finished the mysterious letter a little before Alice had finished patching me up. Though he'd been picking his words carefully, I knew he had had a specific idea in his head as he wrote.

"Can I read it, Edward?" I asked as he folded up the letter and placed it in a battered envelope.

"Not yet," Edward replied slowly as he wrote down a single word on the front of the envelope: 'Bella'.

I scowled. "But you just wrote my name on the front!" Alice was now helping me upright, making sure the splint and gauze were in the correct place so that I could walk properly and not limp.

Edward sealed the envelope. "This, Bella, _is_ for you, but you are not open it until we've escaped completely; that means no people on our tail, and no one still looking for us. Only then can you open and read this letter that I wrote for you. Do you understand?"

I pursed my lips. I snatched the letter from Edward's long fingers and he smiled, looking lovely as always. I looked at the letter. I wanted to read it awfully bad right then, but I didn't want to go back on my word. So I merely nodded, and breathed, "Fine then. Not until we've escaped this hellhole completely; you have my word, Edward."

His smile broadened. He kissed my lips swiftly, but still relishing the moment. "Thank you," he whispered in my ear. His sweet breath tickled my skin, and I blushed.

Alice rolled her eyes. "All right, all right! We've gotta get a move on if we gonna make it though," she drawled. She glanced out of her small window. "I'd say we pretty close to dawn."

Edward and I exchanged glances. He sighed, and then gave out the orders. "Carlisle is probably already awake, talking with Charlie -" I gulped, and an involuntary shiver rippled down my spine, but Edward's arm slivered around my waist, which comforted me - "and preparing to catch us. He knows what we're going to do and what happened. We have to be quick, silent, and stealthy. Alice, grab your packed bag, and help Bella pack a bag as quickly as she can. I need to finish some things before we leave, but they will only take a second. Is everything clear?" Alice and I both nodded in unison. Edward smiled exultantly. "Okay then, let's go! Alice, put your candle out."

Alice blew out her candle, and then everything was in motion. Alice grabbed my wrist and her bag, and towed me to my room down the hall, where she was going to help me pack up. Edward skulked down the hallway in the opposite direction, as quiet as a mouse.

I wanted to know where he was going and to be with him at all times, but Alice's strong grip convinced me otherwise. I watched his beautiful but dark silhouette disappear down the hall as Alice tugged me toward my room, in the contrary direction.

**Yay, together at last!! What'd ya think of their reunion, huh? LEAVE A REVIEW!**

**Don't you like how Alice and Edward are working in tandem, how they've become sort of like brother and sister? Aww, how cute and family-orientated lol xD**


	19. Starting Line

**Hello!**

**I have some explaining to do, guys . . .**

**Right now, Monday, April 13, I am on vacation with my laptop, ideas, creativity, and family.**

**I was so looking forward to all of this because the house we're staying in at the beach said that they have internet connection. And because our router at home is BROKEN, I was so excited; I could get my needed Twilight, The Duchess, The Notebook, etc. clips. And I could post as many chapters on fanfiction as I WANTED to! YAYYYY!**

**Unfortunately, the internet connection is the suckiest linksys connection in the world and my new screen is acting up. Sometimes it's green and I can't read any font above a 12 pt. one. And sometimes it's blue, and everything is hunky-dory, font included. But on top of that, I got rid of the evil McAfee program I had but I can't get another spyware program on here because of the sucky internet connection.**

**Tell me I'm cursed. Because I seriously am.**

**Well, at least with a computer I am.**

**I am generally a lucky person, but not with **_**this**_** damn Dell computer. I CANNOT wait for my new Mac.**

**Another long A/N. Sorry, haha xDDD**

I was scared. Terrified even.

Running away had always seemed like a far-off prospect that never seemed to really effect me though it was really_ all_ about me. It was strange . . . and I couldn't shake it. I felt like I was about to do something that was never intended for _me_, specifically, to do. And it frightened me.

I wanted to tell Alice, but she wasn't exactly the fuzziest, most forgiving woman in the world. She might become angry with me if I told her how frightened I truly was. Or . . . she might be understanding. Alice was a complex person, and I didn't know which side she would give to me. Her personality was uncertain.

I didn't know what to do then. Luckily, Alice broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, Bella," she whispered to me abruptly.

My eyebrow came down on my eyebrows in confusion. "What . . . What are you talking about, Alice?" I asked, chuckling a little toward the end.

She laughed a bit with me. "I heard ya screamin' . . . and I heard ya askin' him to not touch ya, and to get off a ya . . . You sounded just miserable, but furious too. An' I felt so sorry for ya. I, uh, I sort of started ta, uh . . ." she trailed off and looked in the other direction, averting my eyes.

I gasped. "Alice! Did you . . . Did you _cry_ for me?"

She looked at me again, a hapless look on her face. She didn't like to show such weaknesses.

I tried to put on a sympathetic expression for her, but I ended up laughing, and saying, "Alice, it's okay to cry. It's okay to feel those feelings. I was crying while Carlisle raped me."

"Yeah, but he was _rapin'_ ya. Ya had a right ta."

I laughed. It was then that I realized Alice wouldn't_ care _if I told her I was so scared. It was my own fear who had conjured up the picture of the "harsh" Alice that rarely showed itself anymore. I smiled, and agreed with myself that I would tell her I was absolutely terrified of all of this.

I exhaled softly. "Alice?" I breathed. She grunted. "You're not the only one feeling so weak." She pulled on a puzzled look. I sighed. "I am scared to death to run away tonight."

Alice pursed her lips. I braced myself for the worst against my reasoning. Finally, she spoke, "Bella, is alright to be 'fraid tonight. I know that . . . that I certainly am. Edward prolly is too."

"I never really saw this as actually happening and effecting me. I feel like I'm doing something that I shouldn't."

Alice laughed softly. "Bella, lovey, don worry 'bout a thing tonight, 'kay? Edward an' I will be there to help ya the whole way, 'kay? That should help ya with ya fear a lil' bit, right? Edward will be there, helpin' ya. Doesn't that make ya feel any better, sweetie?"

I smiled to myself. The prospect of Edward being there the whole time, his hand in mine, his brilliant smile shining at me _did_ comforted me a little bit, as Alice had predicted. There was nothing more I wanted than to be with Edward right then. We had just reunited and I couldn't stop thinking about him or longing to be with him. I had missed Edward, but the numbness had covered it up. I was feeling the insane desire to be with him pulsate through my veins every second. I wanted to be with him. Forever. I would truly love Edward for all of eternity.

Alice suddenly pulled me back to reality by throwing a blouse in my face. "Ay, Bella; what do ya wanna bring?"

"Anything is . . . fine. Just, uh, grab anything. It doesn't matter," I said off the top of my head.

Alice raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes. We tossed in anything we could find in the darkness. We grabbed articles of clothing from the floor, the dresser, my closet, anywhere, without even checking what it was. We had wasted enough time with our heart-to-heart. We needed to hurry because Edward would be there at any moment and we had to be absolutely ready for him.

Alice yanked the zipper roughly around my purse, sealing up everything we had flung in there. She hoisted the bag up and around her shoulder while searching for my hand in the dark. When our hands were united and soon thereafter fused together from the fear we both were harboring, she pulled me to the window so we would be ready to run as soon as Edward burst through the door. We could hear his faint footsteps in the hallway.

While we waited, so many things ran through my head.

_What if we didn't make it? What if someone stopped us, and caught us? What would happen then?_

I guess they would kill us. Charlie and Carlisle had shown a lot of bloodthirstiness lately. They could quite possibly murder all of us if they found us. I shuddered at the thought of Alice and I's heads being sliced off. I almost cried when I thought about Edward's death, however it would be conducted. If he died . . . I had no idea what I would do if Edward died. He was my world and beyond. He was everything. If he died, it would be like my personal apocalypse.

_What if we _did _actually make it though? What the hell would we do then? How would we live?_

Sell things . . . ? We could sell the clothes off our backs if we needed to, I supposed. But it was then that I realized that I didn't care if we didn't have any money or clothes or food . . . I only cared if Edward was there. I could be sitting in the alleyways of Orléans, naked and starved, as long as Edward was there with me. I would do anything, anything at all, as long as Edward would be with me. I would do anything, go through anything, sell anything, steal anything . . . but only if Edward was there, and he loved me, and we loved each other. And every second of the rest of our lives we both knew that.

I promised to myself right then that I would. I would do it all for Edward. I loved him, and I wanted him, and there was nothing that I would rather do than be with Edward. I loved him.

I loved him!

It was like feeling in love for the first time! I felt like I was falling for Edward all over again.

I knew I was already so very much in love with Edward. So in love, in fact, that I was giving up everything I had at the Black Snake for him. And happily, too. I was completely happy to do so because I loved him so much. I was so in love with Edward that I was sure I would never fall _out_ of love with him. I was just so . . . so in love with Edward!

And Alice. My best friend, Alice. She had always stood up for me and defended me against the ones who hated me. She was like my older sister; we fought at times, but mostly we loved each other like real siblings would. She had always been my long lost sister, and I couldn't think about her death either. But Edward's struck me a little more than hers for some reason. That didn't mean I wouldn't blubber like a baby and be one of the most grief-stricken people at her funeral if she did pass on though. I shuddered at the thought.

I gripped Alice's hand tighter. I was hanging on it for dear life almost. Alice and Edward were the only things keeping me from jumping off the edge and being completely insane.

But all of a sudden I felt an awful feeling build up within me. It was abrupt, and I nearly fell over when it first overtook me. It felt as if something so horrible and dangerous was about to happen. It made me want to throw up. It made my teeth chatter and my skin itch. I didn't want to do this.

I dug my fingernails into Alice's skin. It was a dreadful feelings, and I decided to act on it. I hissed into her ear, "Alice, please, I-I don't . . . want to do this!"

Alice yanked her hand from mine to free her skin, which my nails were quickly scarring, and steadied me by clutching my forearms. "Bella, get a hold of yerself. I know how ya feel. Ya terrified and ya don know if you can do all of this. But that's alright! I am scared too, ducky."

"Alice I just have a really bad feeling about something!" I whispered, terrified. It sounded like I was on the brink of tears, insanity and fear ripping my voice.

"Is just nerves, Bella!"

But it wasn't. It was so much worse. The footsteps outside of my door were menacing and everything was just too dark. Something felt terribly wrong. Something was direly, dreadfully wrong, and I couldn't fathom what it was or why it was making me so distraught over it.

"Alice, please, listen to me, it's not nerves. Something is incorrect, something isn't safe . . ."

She pulled me against her side in a one-arm hug and exhaled heavily. "Bella, listen to_ me_: everything is fine. Everything will be fine. I'm scared too, but just think 'bout Orléans an' _Edward_."

I felt my eyes swim. "Alice, please!" I screeched. The feeling was growing overwhelmingly dangerous within me and the combination of anxiety and insanity was making the horrible feeling even worse. I knew something bad was about to happen. Something unsafe and menacing lay beyond that door; it was not Edward. It was then that I realized it.

My eyes widened. We had to get out. We had to run! We had to get out and get out fast. The feeling was coming to a culmination. This was dire, and I felt it in the pit of my stomach. I grabbed Alice's hand, and shrieked, "_NO_!"

I pulled Alice behind me roughly just as something blew through the doorway.

It wasn't just one bullet - it was many. And I had Alice out of the way right in time, or she would have looked like Swiss cheese. But we only had moments before I would turn out that way.

I jerked Alice and myself behind my bed. Another batch of bullets blasted through the door.

Alice was panting, eyes wild, hair frazzled. My eyes' tears were spilling over the edge. _Where was Edward?_ was the only thing that was running through my head, pulling everything out of the way. The way I was dodging the bullets and jerking Alice out of the way the whole time was only instinct. Meanwhile, my mind was trying to wrap itself around the fact that Edward was not there and I hadn't a clue where he actually was. I was just letting my instinct take over my actions and myself, because my mind was completely focused on Edward.

But Alice's sudden, high-pitched screech pulled me out of my Edward-centered thoughts.

I looked up at Alice. She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me out of the way of a broken plank of wood that had flown toward us from the broken door. "Bella, we need ta get outta here _now_!" she shrilled as she towed us out of the way of some more broken wood.

But then a previous thought came back to me that rocked my spine. "What about Edward?" I asked dumbly.

Alice scowled and narrowed her eyes at me. She sighed before beginning, "Bella. We can _come back_ for ya mate, Edward, 'kay? Right now we need ta get out before somethin' happens or someone _finds us_!" We dodged another flying plank of painted wood that blasted from my wall.

My mind seemed to crumble. I could wrap my head around her idea. My forehead crinkled in confusion, and I eyed her as if she was insane, and to me, she did seem that way. "Alice. I can't . . . can't leave . . . him -"

"_Bella_! You've done it once, you can do it ag -"

"_No_!" I yelled before she even finished. I _had_ left him once, but I had no inclination to do so ever again, forced or not. It was too hard to think about. It hurt my head, and I couldn't do it.

Alice eyed _me_ as if I was insane now. I looked back, strong, standing up for this - though it probably made me look even crazier than I already did. But I couldn't leave Edward, wherever he was.

Alice shook her head. "You're not . . . not thinking right; you're scared and frazzled. I'm taking you with me, let's _go_."

She hooked her arm around mine and tried to pull me toward the window. But I could not leave Edward. I released my arm from hers by detaching it from Alice, and made a run for the door. I heard Alice gasp behind me and yell, "No, stop, Bella!"

There were murderers behind that door.

But I would go through all of them if it meant Edward would be saved.

I arrived at the door . . . or at least where the door use to be. Instead of a door though, there was a gaping hole in the wall. There were still leftover pieces of wood hanging onto the edges of the hole, and when whoever was behind the hole kicked and ripped up those loose pieces of wood, accidentally kicking me with a surprising force, it and the planks both sent me flying backwards.

The back of my head suddenly cracked against the hardwood floors, failing to catch myself, and I heard Alice shriek from somewhere behind me. Scatterings of wood and debris flew all around me as well, smacking the skin of my face, arms, and legs. But I didn't let any of this stop me.

With a reeling head and blurred vision, I leapt up and sprang for the door. I didn't know who the murders I was pushing through to get to the doorway were, but I didn't care. I ran passed them anyway.

I found myself in the dimly lit hallway when my vision finally cleared, the floors dusted with debris, the walls scratched and dirty.

And suddenly I was scared and disorientated all over again. I didn't know where to go or what to do. Edward could be anywhere, and I hadn't the faintest idea where to even start looking.

Petrified of the abruptly huge vicinity and the yells to get me were echoing throughout the hall.

I pressed my hands to my forehead in an effort to make myself calm down, and I then realized that I was still clutching Edward's letter with tense fingers. And a revelation hit me.

Edward was smart and cautious - he would have written where he was just in case something happened while he was away, right?

Well, what was I waiting for? As all of this ran through my head a million miles per second, I pulled his envelope up to my face with shaking fingers, and analyzed every inch of the envelope. On the back, in the lefthand corner in the smallest writing, Edward had scrawled in tiny calligraphy, "Esme."

I almost screamed for happiness, the previous tears running down my cheeks. But that scream quickly turned into one of complete fear as someone suddenly gripped neck forcefully. But I had no time for that - I needed to find Edward, who I had just recently found out was in Esme's room.

Without thinking, I jerked my elbow into the whoever was grabbing me's stomach, and jumped onto his toes. I heard a shout, and the arm that had had a hold me let go. I took in a deep breath, and dashed down the hallway, not even daring to look back and see who was on my tail.

I finally came to Esme's door, and yanked it open.

Panting, sweating, crying, and breaking down, I found Esme and Edward both tied securely to two chairs in the middle of the room.

Their eyes were widening with surprise and fear, and they desperately tried to convey their desire to be untied with grunts and flailing. But I didn't need them to tell me - I was already jerked the ropes off roughly, desperate to get the ropes off as quickly as I possibly could.

Esme kicked me as I was pulling Edward's ropes off, and jerked her head toward the door. I realized the door was unguarded and unlocked. I darted toward it, and bolted it as quickly as I could.

I went right back to desperately pulling off the ropes before a round of bullets blasted through the door.

Out of pure instinct, I knocked their chairs over and they both slammed to the floor, their eyes widened fearfully as I did so. I went down with them though, falling to the floor and covered my head with my arms when all three of us were down securely.

Once the rubble had fallen and the bullets were gone, Edward began to pull himself out of the frayed ropes, freeing himself. I began working on Esme, Edward crawling over to help me. Esme's ropes were off and she was completely liberated in half the time Edward had been.

Once she was freed, I looked over at Edward for a fleeting second.

Though it had been only a few minutes that Edward and I had been apart, it felt like I was seeing him for the first time all over again. His perfect features were so much more beautiful than I had ever remembered, though my last remembrance had been maybe twenty minutes ago.

Edward then looked over at me too, and smiled. I almost burst with happiness; I loved to see him happy. And without thinking, I kissed him. Edward didn't mind though; he kissed me back.

I almost jumped him then - the passion and the love that flowed through my veins like blood at that moment were overpowering, and I was so ready to give into it. But instead of jumping him, I just put in as much as I could into the kiss. It didn't catch Edward off guard, but he definitely seemed a little surprised, though still happy. He returned my zeal, love, and passion for him with his own for me, and I was in my own personal nirvana.

But another batch of bullets and Esme's pleading voice and arms pulled me out of it abruptly.

Edward and I let our lips part, and ducked down, covering our faces and heads. When the bullets and debris were finished showering the room, Edward looked at Esme and I, his face dirty with the rubble, though still beautiful, and said with a serious expression, "I'm going to burst through the door, and stop them. You two need to get out as soon as I tell you to. Get Alice." When Alice's name came up in Edward's orders, I remembered I had left her in that room with all of those murders. But I was soon comforted with the fact that I knew that Alice could perhaps go up against all of them and still win. Edward seemed to know this as well as I did because he wrapped his arm around me, and then continued on, saying, "Get out of here. I'll be right behind you."

I realized all of Edward's orders meant that we would be away from each other until the very end. That dismayed me. I looked up at Edward, my forehead crumpling in confusion. My mouth formed an O before I stuttered incoherently, "Wha . . . no, no, wait . . . no, I . . ."

Edward displayed confusion as well. "What's wrong, love?"

I grabbed his wrists, and looked into his green eyes. "I can't lose you again," I whispered faintly.

Edward opened his mouth, perhaps about to say something but nothing came out. His expression stayed perplexed. Edward cupped my face with his hands, which my fingers had formed permanent manacles around. "Bella, we won't lose each other; I'll be right behind you. And when we're out of here, I'll be with you every second of every minute for forever. I don't want to lose you either, Bella."

"No; not even a second apart, _please_." My voice was so hoarse and strained that it was practically impossible to hear.

Edward suddenly looked guilty. He pursed his lips and sighed. "Fine then. But be safe Bella; you'll stay with me, and Esme can run ahead and help Alice. Just stay behind me, all right?"

I grinned, and pressed my lips to his quickly in thanks. He understood the gesture's meaning.

He smiled at me for a moment before he shouted to us loudly, "Ready, Esme, Bella? One, two . . . three!"

And on three, he kicked the door open.

On three Esme ran.

And so the final _important_ chapter of my life began on the number three that Edward spoke in total confidence.

**3,000+ words; YAY!**

**Final two chapters and epilogue are in the works. Get ready because they're both going to be epically devious and action-packed. Excited?! I sure am!** **WHOO!**

**But you've been warned: the next chapters are the way they are because I hurt the ones I love, especially in writing. It's a bad habit, but hey, it's what I do, dudes!**

**And the epilogue will be the way it will, because even if I ruin everything in the end - usually the case - I like things to be clean and fixed anyway (lol. Contradiction and/or paradox there, haha). And that's how I'm going to end this journey that is a fanfiction story. Wow, that was overly dramatic, lolz.**

**Oh, and also, thank you guys so much for 100+ reviews; you guys are amazing! I loves you all :DDD**

**So keep it going strong, guys! Keep reviewing and critiquing me and making me feel good about myself lol xDDD REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW and I will always love you :D (RHYME! I am too talented xDD)**

**Oh, and ALSO,** **I just finished** **writing Edward's letter to Bella. And if I do say so myself, it is HEART-WRENCHING, POIGNANT, and DEEP. Bring your hankeys, everyone, and don't forget to tell me if I've achieved those three adjectives. Just giving you a heads-up so you will know to do so even before you read it haha xDD**

**XOXO, (just watched a Gossip Girl episode xD OME, EW, CHUCK/VANESSA? Now that's just disgusting.)**


	20. Jump Now

**Okay guys, back to the desktop.**

**I'm not gonna jinx anything by saying that I'm praying this is the last my computer is in the shop **_**slaps self**_** SHUT UP!**

**Okay, I THINK this is the final chapter not counting the epilogue, but we'll have to see. I think this is gonna be super long too **_**yay, crosses fingers**_** lol xDD**

**Also, guys, please check out my new fic, Twilight Songfics! It's exactly what the title suggests; there's good music, good plot lines, some lemons, some matureness, some language, but all good writing! So go read and review the fuckin' fic!**

**And now we begin the epicness.**

**By the way, my new favorite song is I'm Not Your Boyfriend, Baby by 3OH!3; it pwns and kicks Kiss Me Thru the Phone's poppy, trashed-out ass. I'm listening to it now and I LURVE IT!**

**Enjoy the chapter.**

Edward smashed the dilapidated door with one kick. Immediately following, he punched the first man he saw in the face. Esme bolted out from behind him, bustling down the poorly lit hallway. I remained in my secure spot behind Edward, watching, enthralled.

Edward became even more of a hero to me that night. He was valiant and courageous as he effortlessly drilled through the large crowd of dirty henchmen with neat swings and fast punches. His smooth moves puzzled and awed me, and I felt safe and secure knowing he would protect me. Edward was an excellent fighter.

When most of the men had been knocked to the musty ground, Edward yelled to me to shut my eyes, and not to open them until he instructed me to. I did as he asked. I heard several gunshots ring in the stillness of the hall, and I realized what Edward had done. Though it did not lessen my jovial awe for him, it did shake me. When Edward told me I could open my eyes, he grabbed my hand, and stomped down the hallway at an even pace, his fingers unbreakable bonds around my wrist. I was struggling to keep up, but when I was close enough, I asked him this, "Why did you have to shoot them, Edward? I mean, I -"

"You don't want to know the vile things they were saying about you. They had to be eradicated," he cut me off, his voice shaken but very bold. He abruptly stopped us, and spun me around so our faces were inches apart. "Bella, I know I must seem overprotective and controlling, but I want you for myself. You were a prostitute, so it may be hard to understand, but I love you. I do. And I want you to love me back, and be faithful to me, like I want to. I couldn't bear to hear them utter the things they said about your face, your body. Their words were vile and repulsive, and it ripped me to shreds. I love you, Bella. I'm sorry I seem so overprotective. It's my nature and the shakiness that plagued me when you left. I'm so sorry. It will take me a while to let go and trust the rest of the world again."

His eyes were sad and tortured, and I could see the self-hatred and torture clear in his green gems. I swiftly kissed him, and answered, "I understand. It's all right."

He smiled, though the sorrow in his eyes remained. "Thank you. I'm so sorry, Bella."

"I said it was all right."

"I love you."

"_Je vous aime, aussi_."

I smiled, and took Edward's hand in mine. Instead of roughly as Edward had just grabbed mine, I held it tenderly, and stroked his knuckles with the softness of the tips of my fingers. I caressed his palm with my lips, and then guided him down the hallway to the gaping hole in the hall where my door had once been.

We leapt through the hole, and found more henchmen cocking their guns, all pointed toward Alice and Esme, who were backed against the window. Edward's eyes widened, and my hands flew to my mouth, still clutching Edward's hand.

Edward ran forward, kicking one of the henchmen from behind. The man immediately keeled over, moaning and holding his crotch. Edward stood over him, a look of shock painted his face.

It certainly diverted the other henchmen, which I think was Edward's original intent: to lure them away from Alice and Esme. The rest of the men came for Edward, but his quick punches and kicks and the ability to multitask helped him to dodge the bullets and keep the three women in the room safe. My heart was racing the whole time.

Edward yanked one of the guns from a nearby moaning henchmen, and cocked it. I nearly screamed. "Edward, please, don't!" I shrieked, my hands shaking absurdly.

He looked at me. Angelic torture played with his features, and my own features sank. I looked away, and waved my hand in dismissal. There was a pause, then a soft command to look away, and several gunfire ringing the midnight air, soaking it with the sound of murder. Not even this decreased my awe for Edward, but it saddened me still.

When it was all over, Edward glided over to me, and wrapped me in his arms. I buried my face in his chest. He rubbed my arm, and apologized various times. I didn't dare cry, but sniffled silently to myself.

I looked up at Edward, and gently pushed him away. He then snaked over to Esme, and hugged her. With one arm around her, he turned to me, and whispered, "Thank you, Bella, for uniting us. I'd always dreamed about meeting my mother, and though this meeting didn't go as planned, I'm still very grateful to you . . . Well, I'm grateful to you for many things." I blushed - I knew what he was talking about. Edward's face lit up, and he continued, "Mother, Bella and I are going to be married when we escape to Orléans. You have to come with us."

I was a bit shocked at this preposition, but it was a pleasant sort of shock. "Yes, Esme, please come with us! I love you as a mother, and Edward loves you because you're his mother, and we'd love for you to be there at the wedding," I said to her.

Esme raised her eyebrows, surprised, like I was. "Well," she began, her voice was light with her surprisal, "I guess I'd love to if you don't mind me being there."

I smiled. "If Alice is going to be there, then you are definitely welcomed to be there as well."

Alice grinned, and Esme tinkled her colorful laugh. It made the gray, dismal room illuminate.

Edward clapped his hands together. "Well, we should be on our way, no? Bella and Alice, grab your bags. I'm sorry you don't have anything to bring, Mother, but there's no time to pack anything. I'll bet they're already suspicious no victims have been brought down yet."

Esme shrugged. "I don't have much to bring anyway."

Edward glided over to me, and kissed my forehead. "Are you all ready to go, love?"

I slung my purse over my shoulder, and kissed his cheek. "All ready, Commander Edward."

I heard Alice murmur from across the room to presumably Esme, "They so in love, aren't they?"

"Yes. Yes, they are, Alice, they are. And I'm so glad my two children - one biological, the other metaphorically, of course - could find such a strong, beautiful love," Esme whispered back.

I blushed the brightest scarlet. Edward smiled triumphantly - I guessed he had heard their whispered conversation as well - and kissed my burning cheek again.

Edward grasped my hand, and led us to the window where Esme and Alice waited with knowing smiles on their lips. I blushed an even deeper carmine tint.

Edward nodded to Alice. She knew what it meant, and began to explain, "Now, we gotta hurry; this is da drill. There a three balconies, and ya need to jump from one ta the otha to get ta the ground successfully. Careful though: they're rusty, unstable, and rickety. But I carried Edward up to this window successfully, so it shouldn't be too, too . . . uh, hard, I suppose. Now, everyone got all that?"

Esme and I nodded; Alice and Edward both had sufficient experience with this.

I gulped. Edward's sweet breathed tickled my ear as he whispered to me with assurance, knowing I was actually very frightened to do all of this, "It really isn't that hard; I did it every night for weeks, and I'm still alive, right here, with you."

I nodded, and he kissed my ear. "Alice, please go first for demonstration. Mother, you'll go next, all right? Then you, love, er, Bella, and I'll go last. All set?"

The room nodded collectively.

Alice opened the window, and slid out silently into the dark night. I trembled as I watched her disappear. I noticed Esme and Edward seemed completely fine though.

The trembling increased when Alice yelled to us that she was now working on the second balcony. I turned to Edward, and slid my hands up his chest, saying, "Distract me, Edward. Please." Edward's eyebrows lowered. "Please, Edward."

He breathed in, and began the distracting with, "You know that I love you, don't you, Bella?"

My breath was jagged. "Yes."

"Do you have my letter?"

I pulled it out the pocket of my red dress. "Yes."

"And you haven't opened it?"

"No."

"Good. Because that letter holds everything I need to tell you, but never could in the right way. It's the most important thing I've ever written. And if something happens to me . . ."

I gasped. "Don't say that!" I squeezed my eyes closed.

Edward placed his hands on my jaw, cradling my face. "But if something does happen, I want you to have that letter, and always remember me, okay? It's very important."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Please don't cry, my Bella. It's improbable that something _will_ happen, but I just needed to tell you that anyway. It was crucial that I explained all of that to you."

I nodded once more. "Yes."

He chuckled, and his thumbs caressed my cheeks. "Nothing is going to happen, Bella! To either of us."

I sniffled. "How do you know?"

"Because I do."

"_How_?"

Alice had now confirmed she was on the ground; Esme was now leaning out of the window, disappearing too. But Edward diverted my attention again. "Because I would never let anything happen to you, and I am a good fighter, don't you think?"

My smile was slight. "I suppose . . ."

"Oh, Bella, love, please don't cry! I can't stand to see you so sad . . . it breaks my heart. Seeing you with so much sorrow makes me sorrowful as well! Please don't, sweetheart."

I chuckled, but because I was indeed holding some tears back, it sounded a bit like a hiccup. "I'm not going to cry."

"Bella, if you need to, it's fine, but it does make me feel rather sad to see you sad. Does that make sense?" His grin was luminous, and it made my smile wider.

I giggled - or rather, hiccuped - and replied, "Yes, I suppose it does. But I won't cry; I don't need to."

Edward kissed my forehead. We turned to listen to Esme yelling to us that she was now on the third balcony, about to contact the ground. The tremors started again, but Edward comforting hands found me, rubbing and caressing my quivering skin.

"It's fine, Bella; I'll be right behind you."

Esme's now more distant voice announced she was on the ground with Alice, safe.

I drew in a deep breath, and exhaled. I threw my leg around the windowsill, and froze. But I pushed myself to swing the other leg over, and I successfully did.

I then realized I was dangling from the window like clothing set out to dry - my feet were not touching anything. I felt my hands begin to betray me, and sweat nervously. But of course, Edward's cool hands found my wrists, and picked my fingers off of the windowsill. He slowly lowered me down until he himself was almost completely leaning out of the window. My feet finally touched the rustiness of the first balcony, and some of my muscles relaxed, though my mind remained paralyzed with fear.

Edward's hands let go. I cringed, and willed myself not look down. I saw the next balcony, a few feet to the left of the balcony I was suspended on, and some feet below it. I gulped. I inched over to the edge of the balcony, and it began to sway. I halted because of the paralyzing fear, but whimpers escaped my quivering lips.

"Bella? Bella? Are you all right? What's wrong?" I heard Edward's concerned voice from above. I supposed that he heard my sudden whimpers and the creaking of the swaying balcony.

"N-n-nothing," I replied with as much volume as I could give, which wasn't much.

Yet Edward still managed to hear me. "Do you need me, Bella?" Edward's voice traveled to me.

"N-no, no."

I inched as slowly and painfully to the very edge of the balcony as I could. When my hands were tightly gripping the railings, my knuckles quickly turning white, my stomach began to churn. I swung a leg over. Pause. Then the other leg. I stayed like that, suspended over the streets on the outside border of the rickety balcony when I suddenly heard a crash above me. I froze again, and called for Edward.

"Bella, keep going, everything will be fine!" he said, though I wasn't completely convinced.

I heard another crash and a scream. I lowered my eyebrows, and yelled, unsure, to Edward, "Are you sure?" My fear had been transferred from me now to Edward.

I heard a smack, and then Edward's voice, "_Just go_!"

But I couldn't leave Edward there; though I couldn't really help that much, I still couldn't leave him vulnerable and alone, and I had a feeling there was another attack. "I'm coming up!"

"No, Bella, don't!"

"I know you're not okay!"

"_Just stay_!_"_

But I couldn't.

I swung my legs over the railing again, suddenly confident in myself for some reason. I jumped up, and grabbed the edge of the window. I willed myself to find the strength to pull myself up.

Alice's distant voice echoed somewhere below me, saying she was coming back up.

I pulled myself up to the window, my arms shaking, my fingers white and bloodless. But strangely, I didn't feel any pain at all; I felt like I could actually do it.

Somewhere down below me, the clank and clatter of a balcony rung out to the night.

When my head had been successfully in the window, I could see the bloody brawl that was raging inside.

Edward was up against many huge and very strong henchmen who were coming at him from all sides. I saw Carlisle and Charlie waiting in the shadows, watching the struggle. I gritted my teeth, and tightened my grip on the windowsill when I saw their smug faces.

I gasped, and hoisted myself up even more. My arms were soon fully stretched out; I was now able to swing a leg over the border, and project myself into the room.

Another clank of a balcony below.

I suddenly looked up, and saw a bloody man with bulging muscles staring at me. An evil, cruel smile flickered across his lips, and he raised his gun. My eyes widened, and the fear paralyzed me again, only this time, the fear was even stronger.

Edward's eyes suddenly darted to the bloodied man and I's sudden, frightening exchange.

Fear and distraught played across his features.

He pushed his way through the large crowd just as a shot rang out from the large man's gun.

I felt a sudden, excruciating pain in my upper arm, just left of my heart, inches away from the vital spot.

And I realized _I_ had been shot.

The clear night's sky became a blurry black mass, and I felt my head hit something hard. A sticky liquid was pulsing out of the pained area, and was oozing down my arm.

Then there was a bleary but distinctly pixie-like face right next to the mass of blackness I thought was the sky.

And the prince's voice struck the night air, "_NO_!"

**SUSPENSE!**

**DUN-DUN-DUN!**

**So I guess I'm splitting this. See ya next time!**


	21. The Prince

QUICK, WHILE I CAN!!

Just got back from play practice, and I have a sliver of time! Let's make it count!!

There was a gurgle of noise erupting from the blurry, yet distinctly pixie-like blob next to my fading vision. As if it was speaking underwater. "I'm going to bring her down," it said in slow motion.

I wanted to protest, but I couldn't find my voice or the energy to move. So what if my vision was fading like a sun over the horizon or that my ears were ringing and everything sounded like it was submersed? I wanted to help my Edward.

Before I knew it, I felt coolness on my cheeks - wind. I knew I was being moved, but the prospect of a bloodied man like the man who shot me multiplied by ten and then set up against Edward frightened me, causing me to shiver, and I didn't want to be away from him. I wanted to help him more than anything.

Somewhere, I heard a shot fired. It rang in my ears, and didn't pause. I heard another unnaturally slow motion voice say, "Hold it right there, or I'll shoot the girl again." As the voice said this, I felt wind pass over my skin again, and then the pain in back. Had I been dropped? But then two clangs echoed in my ears, and I knew the pixie-like blob and I had both fallen. A glutinous liquid oozed out from the mass of pixie white. It was red. My incoherent head slowly pieced together that she had been shot, and fallen to the ground, taking me with her.

I then heard, "How dare you!" But this voice was not ringing or in slow motion; it was clear and easy to understand. It sounded like soft velvet running under your fingers, like the wind kissing your skin on a cool evening, like music running through your ears. It was beautiful, and I instantly knew whom it belonged to: my Edward.

"Ed . . . ward . . . ?" I panted. But even my own voice sounded distorted like the rest.

"How can you shoot these innocent people?" he pled.

"Innocent?" a voice spat. But suddenly, this voice was recognizable: Carlisle. I shuddered involuntarily when I realized the name. "How can you say that they are innocent, boy?"

"Ed . . . ward?" I tried again. I uselessly tried to pull myself up, to move toward him. But my muscles would not support me.

"Because I love them! And in different ways. Bella is my life, Esme is my mother, and Alice is like my sister! They are innocent people, trying to escape your cruelty! But you can't bare that, knowing you a cruel, sick man, can you, bastard?"

Another shot. I felt the same excruciating pain on my right, almost in the identical spot of my left. But this one was closer to my heart. Blood poured out like a waterfall.

"Stop it!" he cried, angelically in pain. "She's losing too much blood as it is! How can you - ?"

"Because that whore betrayed me, and I fully intend to give her what she deserves: death. She deserves death, and I'm the only one who is going to give the punishment -"

"No! I won't let you kill her -"

Yet another shot. Only this time, I was sure it hit the mass next to me - who I was slowly coming to realize was Alice - for it groaned and shuddered beside me. I wanted to weep for it.

"_Je peux tuer quiconque l'enfer, je veux_! And that includes you, so don't dare stand in my way!"

I cringed; Edward killed by his own father? What a gruesome tale. What would I do? How would I live one without him? Would Carlisle kill me next? My recovering brain was suddenly plagued by these sorts of questions as Carlisle threatened my Edward again.

"Now, so help me boy, I will murder you if you do not hand over your little sweetheart over there." I flinched because I knew he was talking about me. "I want to kill her." My hands and spine became tremulous because I knew that was definitely me too.

"I don't think so."

"Oh, don't be a hero," my weak voice said, barely loud enough to travel to Carlisle and Edward.

I heard him gasp. "See, even your girly over there wants to die. Why not let her?" I could practically hear the smirk as Carlisle spoke. He, I assumed, then cocked the gun.

Then there was a loud smack, and my head began to reel because my vision was slowly coming back. Things were wobbling back into place, and the sliver of moon that was out that night slowly seemed less like a large, blurry crack in the black wall of night and more like a minuscule crack. Alice came into vision, her eyes wide but unseeing. Her chest was just barely rising, her breath shallow; one bloody hole was letting her sticky blood pour out - it was inches below her heard, in her rib cage.

I gaped at her still, tiny frame, shocked. Though my muscles were still weak and in recovery, I begged them to allow me to shake her. "Alice?" I pleaded as I did so.

Her eyelid twitched. I pressed my ear - whose ringing was slowly fainting away now - to her chest, and listened to her slowing heart. I felt tears stream like rain as I shook more roughly, now imploring her to wake from her bloodied trance as I had. But it was no use; I was sure she couldn't hear me, though not quite sure if she would wake us as I had. There was nothing I could do, I concluded to myself. I would have to call Esme to help me bring her down. I did.

After I called for Esme and she replied, I tried focusing on my own wounds, whose sharp pain was coming more into focus, as the rest of my senses were.

The pain was acute and burning. When touched, the injuries throbbed and flamed like no other injury that had ever been inflicted on me, though it was far smaller than past wounds.

Deep red blood was gushing out from each hole, streaming steadily down my arm, catching at the crease in my elbow, but slipping onto my hip, where it pooled into a dark puddle of thick blood. The iron and salt smell filled the once sweet-smelling air. The smell was so sharp that I though I could taste it as well.

I tore a piece off of my dress - careful that it was far from the pocket that held Edward's letter - and wrapped separate strips around each wound. I applied as much pressure as I could without making it more irritated and agonizing than it already was, for I remembered Esme saying that it was always good to apply a little bit of pressure to an injury because it helped it heal quicker, better.

That reminded me: where had Esme gone? Had she started coming up? I looked down, no longer afraid of the height due to more recent, gruesome events, and saw Esme hurriedly climbing back up the swaying balconies. My eyes widened as I watched her red face swell with determination and her plump figure allow her to do such athletic jumping and climbing. I smiled, loving and appreciative, my eyes swimming.

She had just pulled herself onto the second balcony, the middle one, and the moisture in my eyes began to rain down my cheeks and neck. She had a sly smile on her face when she caught me staring at her. "I'm right here, Bella," she called.

When she had toppled onto the first balcony - the one Alice and I were on - she took one look at me, and then Alice, and started belting out orders, "Bella, go help Edward. I'll stay with Alice."

"But Alice -" I began.

"Alice is in worse condition than you; I'll take care of her. You need to help my son. Carlisle is after you, help him! Distract him! You're good at making plans."

I nodded, the tears still flowing. "I have to help him -"

Esme suddenly grabbed a hold on my arm, digging her nails in. That pain seemed distant, a tiny nuisance in comparison to the two large, burning bullets in my skin. "But, please, Bella, be careful. I love you like my own daughter; you're already hurt, and I can't see it happen to you again. _Ne pas le laisser vous tuer, mon chéri._"

It was then that I realized I could actually die. This was a life-threatening situation. Carlisle wanted to kill me; Carlisle had a gun; Carlisle would stop at nothing to see that he was avenged. I could be dead tonight. My life could end, could stop here.

But I willed myself to push through that fear for my Edward. He direly needed any help he could get, and though I wasn't much, I could at least try. For his sake.

I channeled strength into my muscles, which ultimately lifted me up, and to the windowsill. I was struggling, my muscles shaking, as I tried to lift myself so I could swing one leg into the room, and then project myself into the room from there. But as I was fully stretching my arms out to dangle a leg in, I glanced up and saw father and son, dueling.

Edward had the gun in his hand. He obviously did not want to shoot his father, or he would have done it already. Instead, he danced around the room lithely, keeping it away from Carlisle. Carlisle was desperately trying to take the gun from Edward, but the years of his old age were prohibiting him from reaching just high enough or being just quick enough that he could snatch the gun away and do with it as he pleased.

It was going on rather violently as well - though Edward had qualms about_ killing_ his father, there didn't seem to be a problem with kicking the shit out of him; he would step on his father's toes, kick him, punch him. But for some reason, a look of guilt crossed his expression when he swung for his father's face, and directed the punch lower, usually in his gut. It puzzled me as I watched.

But Edward was not the only one fighting physically; Carlisle was making damn sure to get every weak spot, every slipup of Edward's by kicking or punching him. Carlisle didn't seem to have any problem at all with punching his son's face, but Edward was too quick for him, and ducked every swing successfully.

Watching the two fight momentarily distracted me from my work, but I pulled myself out of the trance as fast I could. Luckily, neither of the two had noticed my hovering in the window.

I projected myself in, causing the two holes in my arms to throb and burn anxiously. I grasped at them capriciously, but forced myself to deal with the task at hand: helping Edward. So, I let down my arms, and ran forward, snatching the gun from behind Edward's head, where he was holding it with two hands securely. He whipped around, angered and bewildered, but instantly softened when he saw me. But that morphed into horror and fear in a second. I sighed for only a moment; Edward could really be overprotective when he wanted to.

I didn't let it stop me though; I dove behind my vanity, Edward on my tail. I yelled at him to knock it over. He did, the glass from the mirror shattering. Carlisle was now obstructed from us momentarily. I clutched Edward's hand, hurdled over my bed, tugging Edward with me, and jammed us into the wall. I prepared us to jump out of the window, my fingers squeezing Edward's with all of their force.

But Carlisle was as quick as a bullet, shielding the window from us in an instant. Edward and I froze.

"It ends here. I'm going to kill you, Bella," Carlisle hissed, his blue eyes darkening.

Edward jumped in front of me protectively, throwing his arms in front of me. "You will not come near my Bella," Edward snapped severely, dedication woven into his sinister tone.

Carlisle pulled on a mocking pout. "Oh, you really love her, don't you?" he jeered, and then laughed menacingly. Edward stood tall, not letting his father's words hurt him. "Edward, just hand her over and no one will get hurt - well, except her. But you don't really love her! She's a courtesan! What does she mean to you?"

He laughed again. Edward began to shake with rage, and before I knew it, his foot jutted out, looking to kick Carlisle square in the face. But Carlisle was quick for an old man.

He grabbed Edward's foot. He sighed dramatically. "Oh, Edward." Carlisle twisted his son's foot. I heard several pops, and Edward suddenly shouted out in pain.

I was shocked, and rushed over instinctively to tend to his wound. But I had unknowingly set myself up.

It was me and the smug bastard, Carlisle. Though the hatred within me for him was strong, he still made me paralyzed with fear. I gulped, and froze when I saw him staring at me.

Edward was rolling around in pain now, yelling, "Bella, go! Jump out of the damn window!"

But I couldn't. I was terrified.

Carlisle drew in a deep breath. "So this is where it ends, whore?" he asked, blase. I didn't move a muscle. He paced around me, finally stopping to the side of me. "Hand over the gun, whore. It will be simple and painless if you hand it over."

Edward moaned again, and said between the groans of pain that throttled my heart, "Don't, Bella, run, I'll be behind you!"

Carlisle snorted. "How can you, boy? I've broken your foot - " Carlisle walked behind me, and stamped on Edward shin. He cried out in pain, and I dropped the gun as my hands flew to my mouth in shock - "and I've broken your leg -" He snatched the gun from the floor before I could even bend down to pick it up - "and now I'm going to kill your little whore handmaiden. Say good bye to your little prostitute." He aimed the gun directly at my forehead, and I quaked with fear. I implored my body to run, to move, but I couldn't; I was stunned and paralyzed.

Carlisle sneered as he cocked the gun.

Edward's leg was lightning fast. It projected outward, knocking Carlisle just as he shot the gun. The bullet went into the ceiling, and Carlisle crashed onto the floor. Edward hobbled up, hopping on his good leg, and seized my arm, crying, "_Go_!"

I turned to jump out of the window. But Carlisle grabbed a handful of my dress, causing me to slip forward, and smack my forehead against the iron windowsill.

Everything went blurry again. My ears rang and my mind blanked as it had when I had first been shot. The only true difference was that now, there was a wide opened gash in my forehead, from which blood gushed and pain blazed. My vision was turning black. I was completely incoherent and only half understood what was going on.

"_Bella_!" my prince cried out in even more pain than he had been Carlisle snapped his leg and foot.

"I'm going to shoot her, boy. Look away," Carlisle snarled to his son, the bite in his voice making me angry. But I couldn't find my muscles to allow me to punch him.

Now things were pitch-black. What I was hearing was only vaguely understandable, and it sounded like pleading on my prince's part and laughing on his father's. I cringed.

And suddenly there was a bright light - but it wasn't the sort that was at the end of a tunnel. It blazed brightly right in the center of my vision, becoming brighter with each passing second. I squinted soon thereafter, the intensity of the light becoming overwhelmingly brilliant.

And suddenly there was my prince, clad in flowing white, his hair done up in a neat tousle, a golden crown sparkling faintly against his beautiful, porcelain skin. His green eyes looked like true gems, and I did all I could to not get lost in them. His beautiful red lips parted, and spoke my name in the softest, most velvety tone I had ever heard; it made my heart and brain melt with its melody.

He came forward a little bit, but paused. I moaned - I wanted him to be closer to me, for I craved the light that was shining from his angelic, snow-white skin.

I reached forward a hand in a sign of need, and noticed that it was merely gray wrapped around a bone. I could see the pulsing veins bulge away from the bone, red or blue, growing larger the longer I looked at them. I looked away from my morphed arm in disgust, and focused more on my beautiful, brilliant prince.

But I couldn't help reaching forward once more, no matter how repulsive my arm looked.

My prince's arms parted, and looked as if he were reaching for me, too - but he then pushed my abhorrent arm away, and I felt my eyes roll back in my skull. Then I was falling.

My prince's light was slowly dimming as went farther and farther down into the darkness of wherever I was. I felt myself cry, tears streaming down my cheeks steadily.

But then he did a miraculous thing - he cast aside his crown, revealing his copper-colored mane, and grabbed my hand.

Then a peculiar thing happened.

My pale skin grew back, covering the bone and disgusting veins. It became more white than gray, and my tears stopped. I felt rejuvenated, revived, and my lips twitched in an effort to make a smile. "I love you, my prince," I whispered.

He heard me. "I love you, Bella. You are my life, and I will never let you go," he murmured, his voice filling my ears with the sweetest music ever heard by anyone.

Tears of joy replaced the tears of sorrow, and fell down my face where the previous tears had too, following their paths. I felt relieved and completely happy; the happiest I had ever been.

But it all ended too, too soon.

Edward evaporated. My eyes sank, and my heart plummeted. My head spun because of how fast things were now - first he would never let go, and then he vanishes? I couldn't take it; the pain was swallowing up the joy so rapidly now.

In a desperate attempt to bring him back, I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping when I opened them again, he would be there again, smiling his magnificent crooked smile.

But he wasn't.

Instead, staring back at me was the cruel blackness of the night's sky. I was back to reality.

The tears were relentless.

**Aww.**

**Review?**


	22. Survival

**Here we go.**

**I absolutely know this is the final chapter not including the epilogue and A/N.**

"Bella, Bella! Bella, ducky, please, stop ya flailing!" an exhausted voice traveled to me.

"Is she doing it again?" another equally as wiped out voice asked from farther away this time.

I felt something tug down on my arms, yanking them to my sides, and it was then that I realized I had been thrashing wildly about. Something else pulled my legs together and against something soft and cushy. Slowly, the realization that I was screaming as loud as I could finally found me, as well as the fact that I was sweating profusely.

My eyes burst open. My spine arched, and then collapsed. I stopped thrashing. My eyes dashed around the room, suddenly frightened and confused. My heart pounded and I was panting.

What was going on? Where was I?

And then Alice came into vision. Her soft face was clear and it comforted me slightly. I saw her pale blue eyes, reflecting the light from an overheard lamp. They were compassionate, caring, and patient. Her pale, creamy skin was the same as always, and her thin lips were turned upward in a delicate but cautious smile. Her short, spiky black hair looked inkier and less peaky than I remembered though.

My eyes darted to another. She was leaning on the doorframe, which was to Alice's left: Esme. Her tender expression was slightly doused with some somnolence, but motherly nonetheless. Her dull green eyes shone with some sort of happiness that I couldn't understand, and her rosy cheeks flared pinker when my scared eyes found her. Her reddish hair fell delicately to below her shoulders as always, though it looked slightly flatter. She was smiling broadly as she crossed her arms.

My eyes bolted around the room, resting on the paneled wood walls and floors. The little white bedside table with a green lamp. A glass of water and a few pills atop it, beside the lamp. A small blue sofa across from it, which stayed beside a window that looked out onto a blue sky with lazy white fluffs of cloud drifting across it. A hanging light above Alice illuminated the room, and a dull purple carpet covered the floor to the left of the bed I was laying on. The bed had a beautiful quilt laying across its edge, in front of the bedposts, and another one that was strewn across my scary pale and violently shaking body, which was probably caused by my earlier flailing. The room was a bare but cozy room, and I was starting to like it a bit.

After my evaluation of the room, suddenly, memories began to flood my mind. Memories of the battle in my room between father and son - whose names I dared not say, even in my own mind. Also memories of falling, of being shot, of the gun. They all ran together, pushing together in my mind. They were clear but confusing.

And then the more severe memories slashed through my mind abruptly: the ones of my prince as he cast aside his crown to help me, ones of me being revived but then of him vanishing. They all made my skin crawl and my head throb even more.

I whimpered suddenly, and Alice got a better grip on my forearms. "Bella, are ya really awake this time?" she asked warmly. I squeezed my eyes shut and wailed softly. Alice's breath caught. "Bella? If you're really awake this time, please answer me. Please?"

Someone drifted in behind Esme. She had golden hair that fell to her waist. Her sky-blue eyes glinted with an unrecognizable emotion, and her pink lips were in a taut, nervous line. Her rosy cheeks seemed to decrease when she saw me. I saw her when my eyes fluttered open, and skipped to the threshold of the room, and stared at her for a long time. Rosalie.

And then I said before my brain had given the command, "Where's . . . where's Edward?"

The room then seemed to hold its breath. I sensed that something was wrong; something was out of place. The air just seemed incorrect. I shot up in bed because of it, catching Alice by surprise, and she tried to calm me down, "Bella, Bella, please!"

I looked around at the snug room, this time less frantically. At the basic furniture and the threadbare carpet. At the two standing in the threshold, at Alice who was looking over me with wariness. But the more I observed, the more perplexed everything got.

Where was I? What was I doing here? Why was I here? How long had I been here, in this bed and new room? What had Alice meant by "really awake"? What had been happening?

I cringed with sudden fear, and issued another whimper. Alice kept her eyes on me, steady, but I did not look into them. I whimpered again, and my jaw clamped down.

Everything cleared. "Edward isn't here, is he?" I asked calmly. I was surprised by the composure.

Rosalie cleared her throat. Then Esme whispered to Alice, "Dear, why don't you let her go for a minute or two? She's really awake and she doesn't understand what's going on."

Alice nodded, still looking at me, her lips pulled in a tight line, and helped me to sit more upright in the bed. She sat down on the edge, and Esme and Rosalie glided over to stand behind her. I watched them with glassy eyes. I concluded I hadn't gotten the full impact yet and that was why I seemed so completely calm and tranquil.

Esme and Rosalie exchanged quick, worried glances, and then pointed those stares at Alice. She frowned for only a second, and then turned to me, her face void of every other emotion, excluding caring. She took in a long breath, and began, "Bella, do ya feel all right? Do ya wanna hear it now, you think you can you handle it?"

I nodded.

The room took in a quick, collective breath. Rosalie and Esme looked to Alice again. She sighed, and started, "Well, when I was wakin' up an' feelin' better after the gunshots, I went up ta help ya, ya see. I saw you smack ya forehead on the iron windowsill. You blacked out completely, and blood started gushing out. Edward -" I winced a little at the name "- had the gun. But Carlisle snatched it from 'em, and shot 'em three times right in his heart. Carlisle kicked me in me face, and momentarily knocked me out as I was trying to drag you to safety." Alice looked up at Rosalie, smiling. "But then Rose here burst in right as Carlisle was gonna kill you an' me, and stabbed 'em multiple time with a knife she had stolen from old Charlie. She was real heroic." Alice looked up at her again, looking awed.

Rosalie smiled briefly, and then gave a slight shrug. "I had to do something. I knew there was something evil going on. Charlie had us locked up, keeping us away from the brawl, but I felt compelled to help you. I snuck Charlie's knife, stabbed him, released the other courtesans, and sprinted up to save you at exactly the right moment, it seemed. I didn't think as I was killing Carlisle, I just did. I'm glad I did though; a moment of hesitation, and you and Alice would have been dead."

Alice nodded. Everyone smiled at me. But the atmosphere still seemed so very out of place.

"So Edward is dead," I said in a monotone.

The smiles vanished. Everyone stared at each other for a few moments before Esme nodded, tears appearing in the corners of her eyes, and whispered hoarsely, "Yes."

**~E~**

I took my pills with the glass of water I had seen on the bedside table when I first woke up. Esme kissed my forehead and told me she loved me. Alice and Rosalie each kissed either of my cheeks, and told me they loved me as well. Alice was the last out of the room, and turned off the lights. I laid there in the warm bed until I saw the hallway's light go out, and I knew everyone was in their own rooms, preparing to go to sleep as well.

I leaned over, and clicked on the green lamp on the bedside table. It illuminated the room quickly, though it dispersed its light selectively to that corner. I had the scoot over to the other side of the bed to be able to see anything at all in the darkness.

That's when I whipped out the piece of yellowed parchment from my dress's maimed pocket.

I tore off the seal, and slowly removed the tattered letter.

Emotions flooded me, but I pushed them back. I couldn't chicken now. I had to be strong.

I opened the multiply folded letter slowly with my unnaturally pale and shaking fingers until I found the calligraphy that I recognized as Edward's beautiful handwriting.

And I began to read.

The tears immediately flooded my eyes and cheeks the minute I read the opening. "Dearest" . . .

**Dearest Bella,**

**You sold your love, and I was just a naive boy. We were two completely different people with different pasts and futures. You were there to simply complete a job for me so that I could continue on with that future. But it spiraled into something so different, so beautiful, and I can do nothing other than thank you for every blissful second of it.**

**I knew you were the "one" the morning that I first woke up to your beautiful face. I fell in love with you that morning. Yes, Bella, that was the morning I first believed, that I first loved. It was also the morning the first problems arose. I loved you. But I couldn't because you were a courtesan in the house of Charlie Swan. It was something frowned upon by society, but that meant little to me in the moments I pondered "us". What I was really thinking about was my father, and **_**those**_** horrid consequences. Oh, how the slope would begin to slicken.**

**But people always do crazy things when they're in love, so I met with you nights later and confessed I returned your feelings of love. I'm glad I did because the following weeks were the best weeks I had ever shared with anyone ever in my entire life because we were so in love. It was a brilliant thing. Everything was on fire; everything was wonderfully passionate. We were in love! Not only were they passionate and beautiful though, but they allowed me to appreciate every little thing that mattered in life, things I wanted to share with you when we ran away together. Those were the weeks I knew I'd carry with me for the rest of my life.**

**But then the unthinkable struck: you said you were leaving me. I remember that night so clearly, as if it happened moments ago. The pain of separation, the agony of knowing you would never be back. It burns just as bright now, as I write this.**

**But then things took a better turn, though they were to be repaid with terror very soon after: you took me back and told me you did, in fact, love me. It had been my father and a knife that convinced you to tell me the exact opposite.**

**An ordeal ensued next: my own father, whose memory boils my blood and clenches my teeth, Carlisle, beat and raped you. But Alice found me and told me that I had to save you. I did not hesitate in coming to your rescue, Alice following.**

**That following reunion was the sweetest of them all. The way you spoke to me, the love and meaning of your words lifted my crushed heart, and I knew we were still truly in love and had never stopped. It was one of the happier moments of my life.**

**And now, as I am writing this, I don't know what's going to happen next. I don't know, my love, I just don't.**

**So I'm going to tell you some things that I need to before something horrid or unthinkable happens next.**

**Oh, Bella, it's the way that you blush the most beautiful scarlet tint. It's your grace and the way it makes me love you even deeper. It's the way you shine so brightly that it causes me to smile every time. It's the way your name fills my heart up to the top with passion and love. It's the way that I know, every second of every day, that I was constructed for you and you were molded for me. It's the way that you're lovely, all you are is absolutely lovely and winsome and radiant, and how you need nothing more to make me the happiest man in the world. Oh, my Bella, you don't need anything to make me love you!**

**Now, if you need anything, just say the word, and I will be there to give it to you. Read out this letter, and I'll be there by your side. Yes, clouds can crash on the hillside, and stars can collide, but I will be there. It doesn't matter how, but I will, my love, I will. I will always be there for you, Bella,**

**So, love, just know it was you all along who had a hold on my heart. The time we shared was precious to me, and all the while I dreamed of our revelry. Before you, it felt like it was always raining, raining so hard that it felt like snow. But you were the beacon of sunlight who opened up those dismal clouds, who showed me light and all of its beauty. It was like I had never seen the sky or the sun before. You **_**were**_** the sun - no, no, you were brighter. You put the sun to shame, Bella! And suddenly the world seemed like such a perfect place, my life wasn't such a waste. But it all truly revolved around you. And I know that all of that proves that we will love each other to the end of time, come what may, I will love you.**

**So now, Bella, I have but what one question for you: some people are trying to fill the world with silly love letters, but what's wrong with that? Yes, I'd like to know.**

**So who knows what will happen this night. Anything could. But as long as I give you this silly love letter, I don't care. Because there is one thing silly love letters can do: it's a gift for me to share with you because it holds everything I ever wanted to give and tell you.**

**I love you, Bella; you are my life now.**

**- Edward**

The tears poured for days.

**Did I tell you that you needed your hankeys or what? Tell me if it was good enough please with a review :)**


	23. Epilogue: Forever

I was blinded.

The white was so, so very . . . white. Yes, blindingly so, so thus I was blinded.

It was nothing like the light I had seen the night _he_ disappeared. No, this light looked as though it was coming from the end of a stretching tunnel. I felt compelled to travel down the tunnel; the white light was so inviting, much more so than the darkness of this tunnel.

But I was scared, scared the light would go away and elude me as it had the totality of my life without _him_. So I ran. I ran forward in an effort to catch the light before it could vanish.

I was running forward in the fastest pace I had ever run. I heard the slapping sound of my soles on asphalt echo in my ears, though there wasn't any asphalt beneath my feet as I ran. But I really didn't care that much for the sounds - I just wanted the light.

And then as I was nearing the light, it seemed to be getting farther away. My heart dropped. I wanted the light so badly! But certainly not more than anything.

"_No _. . ._ lumière_!" I cried an octave higher than usual, my voice breaking on the last note.

I sprinted forward. I felt my muscles tighten, threatening to give way and stop. I prayed and begged, asking them to let me go forward. A thick layer of sweat glazed over my forehead despite the delicious air I felt whip at me as I ran.

The light was becoming smaller, as if a door that was the barrier between me and the light was closing.

My eyes widened with panic.

_Push . . . do it . . . just do it, dammit!_

The light was definitely coming closer now, but it was getting smaller. It was slipping from my fingers.

"_No_!" I begged. The sweat poured like my tears down my cheeks and neck from my forehead. My muscles began to jerk, twitch, and ache sporadically, but I paid no attention to them or the sweat; I focused completely on the light.

I curved down, tucking into a ball. I pulled my knees and arms to me, but spread my legs apart.

The slim bit of light was so near.

And then I slipped under, ducking my head, bursting into the filmy white light.

I did it!

I opened my eyes.

It was like mist or white smoke, enveloping the air - but it wasn't smothering. It was actually sweet-smelling and quite harmless. It was beautiful as well.

I lifted myself from the balled up position I was in when I slid under the door toward the light. I stood up, and opened my arms. My eyes fluttered shut. I inhaled the delicious mist, and spun around, feeling the sweet coolness of wherever I was.

My eyes snapped open.

Wait - where was I?

I looked around; I saw nothing and no one, just the white cloud. I gulped. Could I be . . . ?

No. No, that would be preposterous.

Because this was a dream!

Last I remembered, I laid down to sleep, and shut my crusty eyes. I was twenty-six and alone. Rosalie, Alice, and Esme had all passed on. I was alone in the big city of Orléans in the same tiny, cozy cottage I was moved to that fateful night. My fingers were securely wrapped around the tattered, yellowing envelope that had my name written in the most beautiful calligraphy, "**Bella**", scrawled across the front as always. Inside was the loveliest, most caring thing anything had ever written me. I always slept like that; the letter securely tucked into my hands.

I fell asleep promptly, like every night. And this was merely a dream. Just a dream.

But how odd it was: my dreams usually entailed Carlisle, Charlie, and the henchmen from that night, chasing me, killing me, or something more gruesome. And my dreams were never this vivid. They were usually seen from someone else's eyes, watching me. So this was all very strange and inconstant, you see.

But there was one way to test whether this was truly a vivid dream or something else I both feared and revered.

I bent down a hand and let the whitest mist envelope it. I analyzed, and then realized that I could feel it! The coolness, the beauty - it was real. I was not dreaming.

I gasped.

I . . . was not . . . dreaming?

So that meant that I was . . . I was . . .

"Dead," I whispered, my lips barely moving.

"Yes," another voice said.

I whipped around. But I saw no one.

"Who's there?" I whispered again, in the same manner as I had before - lips barely moving, the sound faint and barely audible. But I knew they could hear most likely, whoever it was.

"It's me," the voice replied evenly, normally, as if he had done this every day of his life.

"Me who?"

"Bella, look over here. Look at me."

I turned around again. And there, sitting on a white and misty bench was my prince, savior, angel, the thing I did truly want more than anything else in the world - Edward Cullen.

I had dared not say his name lest the feelings of desolation and unhappiness gurgle up and asphyxiate my heart, but now I didn't care. Those feelings didn't explode up. It was natural to say his name, as if nothing had ever happened to us.

"Edward," I whispered the same way, but testing his name out loud. How strange: I was still okay.

_As okay as okay is for me._

"Edward!" I cried, and sprinted forward. I wrapped my arms around the heartbreakingly beautiful man I had missed so much. His vividly piercing green eyes, his snow-white skin that was almost identical to the mist that swam around us, his ruby-red lips that were turned upward in a slight yet always crooked smile, and his soft, perfectly tousled bronze hair . . . my memories had never truly done him any justice. They were normal, absolutely absurd, and not correct at all in comparison to what I was gazing at with adoration with right then.

I pulled back, my arms still draped loosely over his shoulders. His eyes sparkled. "Bella," his voice dusted the air. I basked in the velvety texture and melodic tone. I smiled for the first time in eight years. "Come, Bella, sit down." He patted the side of the white bench beside him. I was all too eager to oblige.

His eyes and face shone with such happiness. I couldn't help but to smile when I saw it. "Hi, Edward."

"Hi, Bella," he replied, the happiness sparkling his voice as it had his beautiful features.

Then I remembered what I had always wanted to tell him, if I ever met him again, which I always thought was rather unlikely. But there he was, smiling at me, beautiful as ever. I could touch the creamy whiteness of his skin. I could see the bliss that shone through his eyes like the sun. He was real; he was there. And I could really tell him what I'd always dreamt of telling him should I meet him again.

The mood and atmosphere quickly turned into ominous and secretive. Edward knew I was going to tell him something I had prepared to tell him practically my whole life.

"What is it?" he asked. His face was slowly molding into concern, though his voice was already ahead of him there.

I smiled bitterly, and looked at him. "I've waited and wanted this for a long time."

A corner of Edward's mouth twitched, as if trying to form a smile. But it disappeared. "I too."

I smiled wider. "You know I've heard it said before that special people come into our lives each for a reason - to help u grown or learn . . . if we let them. And we are to help them in return. Well, I don't know if I believe that's true, but I do know that I am the integral, _not_ shallow, and fully different person I am today because I met you. Yes, sad because you left me, but a good person, truly."

Edward smiled delicately, but did not look at me. Then he changed the subject. "You know it rained here every day, all day?" I shook my head "no". "Well it did. I wanted to find you so bad because I was miserable here without you."

"Miserable? Why miserable?"

"Because I couldn't wake up beside you. Because I was not allowed to see you. I would have traded in all of forever just to heard you say my name, Bella . . ." He trailed off. And I was speechless. I had felt the same way for eight years, but I didn't know how to tell him that. I hadn't really spoken to anyone like this in a long, long time. Then Edward broke the silence by saying suddenly with an emotion I hadn't heard in someone's voice in so very long, "Do you still love me?"

And every emotion I had ever pushed down and ignored during the entirety of my life without Edward exploded up, shooting into my tear ducts. But these were different tears - they were silent and went without sobs. So I replied in my normal, yet soft voice, "Yes."

Edward took my shoulders. We were eye-to-eye now. "Bella, I love you," he said breathlessly.

I felt yet more saline tears spill over the edge. "Oh, Edward, I've always loved you."

I smiled, hiccuping; the tears were finally beginning to act normally by making noises like usual.

Edward pulled me to him. I burrowed my wet face into his chest, reminding me of a past time where we had done this. But the memory did not sadden me, strangely.

Edward's nose grazed the top of my head, breathing in the scent of my hair I knew he had missed. I smiled broadly, happily. "Oh, Bella, how I've missed you . . ."

"This is nice," I breathed.

He nodded, and tightened his arms around me. "The afterlife never felt so wrong." He felt the muscles of my forehead push my eyebrows down. I didn't need to say anything. "Because you weren't where you belong - inside my arms." I laughed lightly. The sound was new to my ears for I had not laughed in years. "Oh, I still believe in human days - the cycles always change, life will find a way - but things are just better up here . . . once you have the one you love."

I grinned. "You love me?"

Emotions filled Edward's velvety voice - they were beautiful, sad, happy, and everything in between. Just his _voice_ was powerful enough to bring tears to my eyes. "I love you," he said, the words drenched in the emotions. "I want you more than gold or silver, only you can verily fulfill my life; you alone are the real joy giver and the apple of my eye, Bella. You electrify my life. I would chase your starlight forever. I promise. I love you, my Bella. And I will forever."

I pulled away, looking up at him. A lone tear slid down my cheek. "I've never been happier," I murmured.

He smiled at me. His thumb caressed my cheek tenderly, sliding down it and down it again. His eyes shone with such pride and jubilance that I was as blinded by it as I was by that light. His voice was shaky, as if on the verge of tears when he spoke, "I have waited eight years to see you again. This is the happiest moment of my life."

**THE END**


	24. AN, CONTEST, HONORABLE MENTIONS, OH MY!

**CONTENTS**

1. HONORABLE MENTIONS

2. A/N

3. THE LETTER

4. CONTEST

5. TRANSLATION

6. THANK YOU!

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1. HONORABLE MENTIONS

Okay, I would like to thank these people especially for giving me amazing reviews and support (in no order):

**- xeoca**

**- Twilighter...**

**- jayd-n33**

**- mockingbird 21425**

**- Vamp-by-Night**

**- redd4169**

**- mfrancesj**

**- Nicholh2008**

Thank you so much, guys!

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2. A/N

So, I know most people don't like these because they're always extremely boring (I can't blame ya there) but this is super short and important, so READ IT:

**This story was inspired by Moulin Rouge, my favorite movie. I tried to divide evenly between Twilight and the movie. I think I did it pretty evenly, and I certainly like to think I did because I love both A LOT, and when I say A LOT I mean A LOTTTTT! I like to think I did evenly because I lovveee themmm . . .

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3. THE LETTER

The letter! The letter, as many of you may have guessed, was a challenging piece because I could have done it three ways: a.) the way I chose, just make it heartbreaking and loving, b.) make it as if Edward knew he was going to die, or 3.) a poem. Because the draft of b. was so sucky, and I just didn't have enough time to find something that rhymed with 'wife', I went with a.

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4. CONTEST

Okay, this is the fun part! So, I noticed that NONE of you noticed that I used a lot of song quotes! Some were tweaked, some were little surprises, and some were left the way they were, but NONE of you guys noticed because I didn't get any comments saying, "You used this song"! So, you guys can pretty well guess what my contest is, right? Well, if you can't here it and the rules are:

**My contest is involving the song lyrics I used. I used who knows how many lyrics in the piece, but at least 8 different songs in Sell My Body to the Night. If you can tell me CORRECTLY 6 songs I used for lyrics out of the 8, you get a prize: I will give you the descriptions of 9 different stories I've been thinking about writing, and YOU get to choose which one you like the most. When you've chosen, you can either have me write it myself, OR you can collaborate with me, and we'll do it together!**

***You MUST have an account (no anonymous) or I cannot give you the descriptions. Sorry!**

***There MAY BE more than one winner. I will eliminate the stories people want to do, so if you're last and you get stuck with the last one, I'm sorry! That's just how it worked out - you gotta be first if you want to get a good one!

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5. TRANSLATION

This was requested of chapter 6, I'm only doing chapter 6. These are the phrases I deemed important enough for translation in chapter 6.

- _"C'est une si belle ombre d'écarlates, vous n'avez pas remarqué? Bella, vous êtes si jolis. Vos yeux sont larges et ils scintillent doucement. Votre peau est pâle et lisse. Vos lèvres sont cramoisies et molles. Angélique."_ = "It is a very beautiful shade of scarlet, you didn't notice? Bella, you are so beautiful. Your eyes are broad and they glitter wonderfully. Your skin is pale and smooth. Your lips are crimson and soft. Angelic." - Edward

- _"Edward, vous êtes plus que tout de cela à moi. Votre sourire tordu éblouit et quand vos yeux verts vacillent au mien, j'ai l'impression que mon coeur fond comme la glace" = _"Edward, you are more than everything to me. Your crooked smile dazzles and when your green eyes glitter in the moonlight, I feel as though my heart melts like ice" - Bella

- _"L'amour, vous êtes la lune et vous êtes le soleil. Votre beauté avale tout, donc rien d'autre n'est joli plus."_ = " Love, you are the moon and you are the sun. Your beauty swallows everything, therefore nothing else is pretty more."

- Edward

- _"Votre corps est si joli, Edward; je le veux. Le sommeil avec moi ce soir?"_ = "Your body is so beautiful, Edward; I want it. Sleep with me this tonight?" - Bella

-_ "Je ferais n'importe quoi pour vous. Je vous apporterais le soleil, le suspendrais sur votre lit. Je vous embrasserais partout quotidien juste pour vous. N'importe quoi, n'importe quoi pour vous."_ = "I would do anything for you. I would bring you the sun, suspend it above your bed. I would love you everyday, anywhere. Anything, anything for you." - Edward

- _"Il est si agréable d'entendre ces mots parce que je n'ai jamais aimé personne auparavant; entendre le premier dicton que c'est une bénédiction. Oh, comment je vous aime ainsi." _= "It is so nice to hear these words because I have never loved anybody before; hearing it for the first time is a blessing. Oh, how I love you so." - Bella

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6. THANK YOU

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!

FIRST COMPLETED AND SUCCESSFUL STORY!

THAAAAAANK YOOOOOOOU!!


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